


Writing Fairy Stories

by HalewynsLady



Category: Merlin (1998)
Genre: But I do hope to continue this here or on ffnet, Chapter 1-19, Direct copy from ffnet, F/F, I would probably change a lot by now, Old Fic, so I am posting it here too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:01:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 66,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28425903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HalewynsLady/pseuds/HalewynsLady
Summary: Medieval fangirl meets Queen Mab





	1. The Priest

To stop Bellatrix Lepus from nagging at me :) I will start a Mab fic.

Lets see where it takes me. This should be fun. :p

Do not own any of the Merlin characters I might end up using.

English is not my mother language.

Please comment :D

"My lady, there you are!"

Reluctantly she turned to face the priest. "Father, you were looking for me?"

"Yes, yes I was. Your father, the Duke, told me to keep an eye on you whilst he is off to Camelot. I have barely seen you." He was gasping for breath.

The dear old man. "I can take excellent care of myself."

"Everyone knows that. Your father would be most pleased if I could tell him with absolute certainty that you did nothing, nothing… that could taint on your soul, even a bit."

She hardly listened to what he said. The thought of exploring her beloved tower chamber haunted her mind. "I have promised him not to leave the castle. I will not break my word."

"Of course not, of course not. If you should, if you feel the need to confess anything, my dear. Anytime, you know you can always find me…" Attending mass and confession once a week was quite enough, she commented in silent ponder. Her mind had yet again lost track of his words. "You are now at such a crucial age. A tempting age. Innocence has to be preserved. And protected! The devil has many guises. He can be anyone, can lurk anywhere." She was beginning to wonder if he would reformulate everything he had just said only to repeat himself once more. "In a simple gesture. In any object." "He could be you." she teased, being a tad too familiar. But why not? He had watched over her all her life.

"Why yes. No! No, I mean."

"I know what you mean, don't worry about me. I know right from wrong."

His eyes darkened. "No one knows that, my dear."

She smiled sweetly at him.

Despite his stutter he was a very stern man. Her trusted guardian, who liked to pretend that the Duke would not stay long in Camelot. Truth be told, she had not seen her father for over a year. She barely remembered what he looked like. She knew he had a pleasant smile.

Her father had served under the legendary king Arthur in his final battle. Her father had been fourteen, no older than she was now. After Arthur's defeat everyone and anyone had made a claim to the throne. An unending cycle of kings defeating and succeeding each other began. No different from times before Arthur's reign. It was an order much resembling chaos. But the Duke had always managed to survive at court. He served the present king as an advisor. Syrinx had learned to entertained herself gathering stories about Camelot.

She had difficulty keeping herself from running as she mounted the stairs. The highest chamber had been her sanctuary for many years.

As a child of seven she had made her first endeavour to this magical place. It had been rather disappointing. She had found no skulls lying around, no magic potions, not even huge cobwebs. Still she never gave up hope of finding a cursed object hidden there. No curse would harm her, for she was no princess. The room had long since lost its mystery to her. It had grown smaller and more familiar with time. She knew all the treasures that were stored there.

If her father were at the castle, he would forbid her to enter the tower. It is not suitable for a lady to spend all her time in a tower when she could be learning how to sow or make curtsies or whatever decent girls did.

She hurried towards the old reading desk. A book was chained to it. It was written in an unsteady hand, which tried to mimic courtly writing. That much she could tell from looking at the letters. She rather liked the sloppiness of the handwriting. She could not read.

She would not ask the priest to decipher it for her. For she knew these were no Christian stories nor courtly ones. It is the work of the Devil, the priest would say. She mockingly imitated his voice. "People have gone to hell for less than this! Avert your eyes before you are condemned to the eternal fires of Hell. Beware Syrinx. Evil oozes of each page! 't was made of human skin no doubt."

Soft pages of forgotten tales. These were her fantasies. The things she cherished most. The illustrations in the margins of the book showed the most magnificent creatures she had ever seen. All resting. No, dying.

She let her fingers dwell on the delicate paper. The figure of a dark queen. She been intrigued by this figure from the first time she saw her. A shadowy silhouette, fading from the page it seemed. She was the most gracious being Syrinx had ever seen. Her dark eyes, they pierced through her soul. Always fighting.

If there was anything she believed in, it was this figure. Her beauty did not come from innocence. Though the priest said this was the source of true beauty. Her queen was so much stronger than that. 'There is no such thing as innocence' Syrinx had once dared to suggest. No discussion had followed, only indignation. She had spend the rest of the day kneeling in front of the alter, asking forgiveness from God till her knees were red hot and her throat dry of reciting empty prayers. This was the moment it first occurred to her that the priest's God might be unjust.

She was playing chess with a servant, another unladylike habit of hers, when the priest barged in. He had not even waited to be announced.

"I need to talk to you, my lady." He swiftly paced through the great hall towards her.

Curiously she looked up at him. "You may."

"Privately." He said solemnly. She was puzzled by his request. Only her two most faithful servants were in the room.

"Leave us" she said slowly.

His face lit up. "I received news from your father." She felt relieved. She had thought he had come to lecture her once more for not attending church. He was holding a letter in his hands, anxious to present it to her. "You are to marry."

"Marry? Don't be silly."

"Your father has decided so. About time as well." He swallowed nervously. He knew her well enough to know she would not take this very well. "I have told him many times that he should find you a husband. In his absence he has been blind for your growing into womanhood."

"Yóu told him?" She had always known this would be her future. Marriage to form an alliance. Still she felt frustration itching its way to her heart. All details the priest gave evaporated before they reached her mind. She simple could not take it in.

The priest put up his finest sermon voice. "It will be your duty to be an obedient, honourable wife so that God may bless your husband. Tomorrow you will be taken to the monastery of Avalon where you will be prepared for the great event, which will take place in three months time. They will teach you courtly manners there." The only thought occupying her was what would become of her book once she had left the castle. For she would not leave it behind. "Leaveme." She was surprised at the scorn in her voice. And decided she did not dislike it.

Cursed be tradition! She ran up the stairs. If this was the best God could offer her, she would refuse Him as she had already refused this husband in her mind. She escaped to her realm of older, forgotten things. Keeping her book of pagan fairytales pressed close to her chest she could feel the anger of the dark fairy queen rising up in her.

It was time to wake up and fight.


	2. The Fairy Queen

My first time writing Queen Mab… oooh… scary and exciting. Tell me where I mess up. ;)

Enjoy

A flash of lightning woke her. Syrinx was lying on the floor. It was a mystery to her how she had managed to fall asleep during her rage. Perhaps she had pasted out from screaming and crying. Despite her fury she had not left the tower chamber.

All she could see around her were shadows. The girl staggered to her feet. The wooden floor felt unstable. None of the servants had come looking for her. Disillusion sharply pinched her heart at that thought.

She felt exhausted. She drew herself up at the reading desk. Sleep had cooled her anger. It was reduced to an icy patch of inner bitterness, it had also left her head thumping. Looking up, she saw a figure standing before her. The girl almost fell backwards. Shadowy eyes mockingly witnessed her human weakness.

As Syrinx recognised the fairy queen her appearance seemed grow more solid. Syrinx stood perfectly still, marvelling how a face could look so hard and delicate at the same time. The lump in her throat growing with each heartbeat.

She could not stop herself from whispering: "You are beautiful"

"Yes." There was no reason to deny the truth. The lady smiled and Syrinx knew she was lost.

At the same time she felt that she had been saved from the meaningless life she was destined to have. She had heard of fairies visiting girls in their sleep, tangling their hair and giving them pleasant, even sinful dreams. She knew about their mischievous behaviour and somehow she knew that the one standing in front of her had very different intensions. The fairy in her home! The fairy from her book.

"You came!" The lady inclined her head as if to say 'of course I did'. "How?"

"I have always been here."

Syrinx reached for the book, reluctantly letting her eyes go from the queen. Her hands trembled as she searched for her most beloved image. It was still there. The lady on the page looked insignificant, even dull now compared to the one standing before her.

The picture in the book caught Mab's eye. "You think human paper could contain me?" The coldness of her voice made Syrinx shiver. Did the lady whisper or shout, she wondered. Most likely neither for her face remained blank while she spoke. "I do not pop up from a book like some cheap magician's trick. You know nothing of magic." She spat. Yet this girl believed in it, believed in her. And that was more than could be said about a certain wizard. How long ago it felt since she had greeted him in her realm. "I would not hide in paper." she continued dismissively. "It tears easily." The book was Frik's work. She had not thought that it would ever help her in any way. Stories and chants should be passed orally to be kept alive. Now they were lying there on a desk. Black words like dead ants. The lady inhaled slowly, regaining her composure. "As I said, I have always been here." Yet she had not made herself visible until now, Syrinx thought wistfully. Of course not! It had been Syrinx' own faith and anger which had given the queen the power to appear to her. No wonder she felt drained. At this thought the fairy queen revealed that which Syrinx had been longing to know for many years: her name. "I am Queen Mab. "

Syrinx was determined not to show how blown away she was by this visit. Daringly she declared: "The queen lives in Camelot." She continued smugly. "Father has described her to me, she looks nothing like you. "

An angry hiss followed. "Aren't you the clever one."

"Why yes I am." The lady's eyes narrowed, she was trying to restrain herself from reproaching the girl.

"What sort of queen are you?"

"Yours. For a start." she said, pacing around the room. Most impatiently. For a magic being who gave the impression of being as old as time itself this lady's social skills were peculiar to say the least.

The silence grew tensed. Oh, Syrinx knew better than to trust fairies. She had been warned not to meddle with such dangerous creatures. Certainly, she could not be feeling more exhilarated. She had never feared the book. She did not fear Mab. Though she had to admit, the lady was very different from what she had imagined her to be. So very unfeeling.

Mab smirked, to herself rather than to the girl.

Syrinx was holding the book in her arms. The chain which had tied it to the desk was broken. Without doubt the queen was responsible for that. A ghostly white hand stretched towards the maiden. Coming close, but not touching her. Syrinx felt that this definitely was not something the fairy queen would be easily inclined to do. Mab could sense the girl's faith. It was swirling, glowing towards her. It flared up inside of her. She had not realised how long it had been since she had been worshipped. A human would not understand this feeling.

Mab slightly flinched at the sound of church bells in the distance. "We must leave."

They headed towards the door. Mab would not travel with magic for it would wear her out. She would not let the girl know of this, it was painful enough to admit to herself. If only she could have sent someone else to collect the girl and avoid lingering on Christian soil discussing her questions. She could not afford any other way. Her personal presence could only deepen the girl's believe, she thought self-satisfied. The girl must be feeling most honoured.

"I will make you do terrible things." It did not sound as a warning as much as a promise. The girl simply nodded in all earnest.

"Ere we depart, my lady," Syrinx briefly hesitated. "your majesty, there is one more thing I would like to take with me."

Sneaking around in the castle. Syrinx had wanted to do this for so long! Of course the queen did not give the faintest impression of 'sneaking around'. She strode across the hallway as a living shadow. It was still dark outside. At this end of the corridor, then to our right. Two guards stood in front of her father's armour room. One noticed Syrinx' silhouette passing the dim light of a torch. "Who goes …?" It went too fast for the girl to see. Mab had lifted her head a bit and the guards were thrown against the wall behind them. Syrinx gave a little cheer of surprise. Carefully she approached the guards lying on the floor. Both unconscious. No time to inspect them, her lady had already entered the room. There it was, her father's pride. Krisler the sword of legend was hanging on a wall. His most prized possession. What a fool she had been for believing that title had belonged to her. Obviously it didn't, as he would give her away on a whim.

Syrinx lifted the weapon from the pins it was resting on. "I have always wanted to fight with this. No one knows it still exists. It would mean war if they did. I remember when I used to practice with sticks with one of the servant boys. I wanted to learn how to fight, with a sword and a lance. To be a knight, like my father once dreamt to be." Queen Mab remained silent during girl's reminiscing. Clearly she had her own things to think about. She had not expected the girl to be this talkative. Syrinx strapped the sword to her dress. "There are many legends about this sword. It will never rust nor blunt."

"It holds no magic." Mab interrupted. She had felt that from the moment she had walked in the room. Syrinx decided to hide her disappointment.

"Magic sword or not, people still believe it to be magical. That's what really counts." A sly smile appeared on Syrinx' face. Mab rather liked this girl's spirit.

They walked out of the room, down the stairs. Below the sun was breaking through. It was a grey morning. Mists shrouded Syrinx vision.

"I heard so many songs and stories about Camelot and its knights, about magic."

"Magic disappeared as I did."

"Then you know of king Arthur and the miracles his wizard performed!"

"The stories are a lie." Mab stated abruptly ending this discussion.

"Then teach me the truth."

Two horses were standing just outside the stables. They were already saddled to take the girl to Avalon after church. Syrinx stroked her horse, whispering her delight in its ear. She was leaving this place.

Mab had already mounted her horse. Syrinx quickly followed her example and they rode off. Last night seemed to have occurred a lifetime ago. For a moment her mind turned to everyone she had ever held dear. She looked back at the church where they all were now. The kind-hearted servants of her father who had kept her there until he found good use for her. Anger and regret for not seeing their true nature rushed through her for the last time.

After the excitement of this morning a cool breeze clarified Syrinx's mind while she was riding. "Your majesty, what exactly do you want with me?"

"You will serve me and Old Ways." She didn't know what the lady meant, but decided it best not to ask any further. She would know in due time. She was free, that was all that mattered to her.

"Where are we going?"

"To my realm, the Land of Magic."

She was on her way to Elfenland, where all is beauty. Syrinx had never felt so alive. She had to look at the fairy lady riding beside her to believe this was happening.

The girl recognised some places they passed. From this she knew that their ride should have taken several days, but it didn't. She herself did not tire nor did the fairy queen.

"Maybe the horses need water." Syrinx suggested. They weren't magical horses, they couldn't ride forever without food. Unlike horses from the Wild Hunt, the ones this lady was probably accustomed to. Syrinx was getting thirsty herself. "I think I can see a lake there." She pointed towards a reflection of light behind the trees.

Mab cast her an impatient glare. "Not far now." She would avoid the lake where her manipulative sister lived at all cost. She knew better now than sharing her hope with that one. There were more ways into fairyland.

Syrinx stared up at the steep side of a hill. A wall of solid rock. Mab's horse swiftly galloped forward. It needed no command to do as she wished. Syrinx ushered hers forwards as well. She couldn't help but close her eyes when flesh and stone were about to clash.

PS Krisler is a purely fictional sword. If there ever were legends about it they have all been lost and I would be at a loss as to how it got into my mind. :/ By magic I suspect.


	3. The Dead

Thanks to my reviewers! I had not expected so many of you :D By all means keep reviewing. I love reading what you think of the story.

Ok, the third chapter finally arrived. It proved trickier than expected, and lengthier.

Syrinx fell out of a solid wall onto the hard stone ground. She scrambled to her feet as fast as she could. Almost loosing her balance again as she picked up her book. Mab didn't notice. "Come, we have work to do." She strode through the corridor showing no intension of waiting for the girl to catch up. Syrinx quickly checked if all her limbs where still attached to her body and hurried after her mistress. The sword, she discovered, was now strapped to her side bruising her thigh with each blunt thud echoing through the corridor. She followed the queen through many underground tunnels which were faintly illuminated by crystals. There was an unearthly feeling about this place. She looked behind her into the pale darkness. Whether the horses were still outside or somewhere else in Faerie, they were Mab's property now.

She noticed that Mab's clothes had changed to something more casual. That is according to the queen's own sense of casual. The dress was a deep purple hue leaning towards midnight blue. It provided a stunning contrast with the paleness of her throat. A sharp trace of skin almost reached her waist.

Whatever spell Syrinx had been under during the journey slipped off her. Exhaustion claimed her body. As her chances of stumbling significantly increased the girl made herself more aware of the many rocks lying on the floor. Queen Mab had smashed innumerable stones and crystals during those last bitter years of existence. She had clung to each and every one of them in despair. Wasting her power on someone she had never planned on fighting. She had not recall all the enchantments she had cast. It hardly mattered now, none had saved her.

Syrinx could not keep her eyes open any longer. In the end the carcass of some alien beast succeeded in making her trip. Mab stopped, grinding her foot down on the remains of a shattered crystal. Everything she stood for was reduced to dust. Her magic, her believes, her people. How very Christian. "I expect you to take better care of your cleaning chores than your predecessor did." Mab hissed to the girl. "His vile betrayal forced me to leave my realm in a disgraceful state." She continued walking. Drowsily Syrinx followed her.

Surely no being had walked these corridors in years. "My lady, why did you not return sooner?"

"I did not have the strength to. I lost a battle." she spat as if the mere thought insulted her. "The battle for my survival." She added softly.

"You were killed?" Syrinx felt stupid the moment she had uttered those words.

Mab's face remained blank. "I was forgotten."  
"Is that is worse? Why?"

The queen's pace quickened in anger. Syrinx ran to her side, through the doorway, down some steps. The girl looked up at where Mab was standing and froze - seeing what her queen had felt from the very moment of their arrival: the land of magic was completely deserted.

Mab ruled a cold and empty kingdom. A dark cave bathing in a blue shimmering light. The sight of it sent shivers down Syrinx' spine.

When Mab spoke, her voice was hollow. "There was not much time to defend the Old Ways as Christianity swept over the land." Her piercing eyes fixed on Syrinx. Her words followed fast after another. "Even so, even now, the Old Ways are still present. They live on in new stories and old. Often masked. Magic is weakened but it has not died out completely. Little that is left slumbers. My own presence proves its survival. This was once my land. Home to my people, the most wonderful magical creatures you can image" she snorted. "no, I suspect you can't.

Most of my people gathered here when they felt their time had come." Mab waved a hand through the cold air. She could feel whiffs of magic floating through her realm. The scattered remainders of elves pulsing so very softly. "Thinking they could live on in the land under hill, cut off from the world of Man.

Some of my kind remained in the mortal realm." Mab continued, sketching out the situation. "They are making their presence known through trickery. Constantly reminding human kind of our existence. An undignified manner of gaining believe. But survival none the less. I… I do not know how long those few left can sustain." Self-pity was not Mab's style. Her words did not sound lamenting. They were a declaration of war.

"Superstition is hard to kill." Syrinx whispered, remembering words the priest had told her many times over. The pagan habits of several peasants had unnerved him. He knew that these ways would be left behind with time. For the source of most had already been forgotten. Man now saw the true nature of their folklore. The Devil hidden in fairies and goblins of old. If one of these creatures, heaven forbid, should appear to a human only faith could save this person and cast it back to the realm of the Evil One. And if a charm happened to hold any power this was by God's will alone. "I was warned that there are still pagan rituals performed in the woods, close to the castle where I lived."

"I know." Mab stated coldly, ending the conversation. Syrinx did not want to ask any further lest it should displease the lady. Her own thoughts had tired her. The girl gazed at the twisting aqueducts, this seemed to be the most fitting word for the hollow rocks curling through the cave. A broken boat was stranded at the end of the stairs. Once water must have run here. Syrinx slowly followed the way the boat once had taken with her eyes. Letting her eyelids drop for a few seconds.

Mab remembered how she had secluded herself when the New Ways began to rise. She had neglected her people and their festivities. Locking herself up with her crystals and stones. Focusing all her thoughts on gaining more power for her and her people by forging and breaking alliances with human rulers. Had she been wrong to do so? Her court had dissolved around her. The proud and illustrious Fae that once kept her company had faded without her really noticing. Anger had ruled her, as it still did. She would not let herself mourn those lost. She had grown hard to keep fighting. Only now did she feel the loneliness of the path she had chosen.

The queen abruptly broke away from the desolate sight, heading back to the safety of her palace. A building of classic design strange to the human girl. Syrinx hurried behind. Her entire being aching, screaming to help this lost realm.

Against Syrinx's expectations the queen spoke again. "I died in Camelot, and many other places. I lingered in the mortal world because of those few who faintly remembered me. Humans who fear stories about magic, though they do not believe them to be true. For too long I was unable to take form. No one truly believed anymore. When I appeared to those who once worshipped me, now grown old with age, they took me for a mirage! A mere trick of their withered minds!" Stone pillars cracked at the queen's rage. Syrinx looked at her in adoration. The splendour with which queen Mab stood before her made it impossible for the girl to understand how anyone could have taken her for less than she was.

Mab had not been able to hold her form for more than a few seconds in what seemed an eternity. She forced herself to calm down, to feel the body she had regained. "Now we will get to work."

Queen Mab guided her swiftly through the temple, once the centre of all magic. The girl noticed, pretty late, that her own clothes had also changed. She wore garments of a soft shade of purple. The fabric hung loose around the shoulders. Her dress was not majestic as Mab's, but more beautiful then any she had ever had.

"We have to find a way to get me back into Camelot." Determination and even some joy could be heard in Mab's voice.

Syrinx suppressed a yawn. "I suppose you can't show yourself and tell the citizens you are real?"

"Camelot is impossible for me to enter as long as no one there remembers me. This is where you come into play." Mab smiled smugly. Glancing at the girl she observed that Syrinx almost fell over with fatigue. She opened her mouth as to call a servant. Then reconsidered. "I will show you to your chamber."

The way through the hazy purple-grey corridors went smoother almost as if the place had adjusted itself slightly to its queen's wishes. The girl was useless to queen Mab if could not stay awake. Mab shoved her inside a room with walls made of the same stone as the tunnels. Feeling delighted at the touch Syrinx turned to bow.

Indecisive the girl stood in front of her queen. "Excuse me, madam, where do you sleep?" She felt her face colour under Mab's gaze, becoming fully aware of the impertinence of her question.

"I do not." Syrinx couldn't help but notice the relief she felt of not being hit across the face. For that was the reaction she had seen reflected in Mab's eyes. "I have better things to do." Rebuilding an empire.

Seeing Mab's hurried look the girl instinctively reached out for the queen's arm to prevent her from disappearing by magic. "But… how will I know if you should need anything? "A puzzled look had settled on Syrinx face. Mab inhaled slowly, irritated by the girl's lack of experience in the magic business.

"You will know." The puzzled look returned, much to Mab's annoyance. "You will hear me."

Syrinx glanced briefly to the room she was in, then back to the queen just in time to see movement out of the corner of her eye. The girl felt cold. She gazed into the corridor. No one there. The queen had moved too fast for her to see. It scared her. She refused to admit that, even to herself because for once she was happy. There was something about this place, something about queen Mab which both frightened and enthralled her.

A smile crept to her face as she turned back to her room. In no time the smile widened and she cried out from sheer bliss. She placed the book and sword against the wall and let herself fall into the deep dark coverings of her bed. Her fingers traced the patterned sleeves of her dress. Everything reminded her of the queen and her magic. She was exhausted and knew that she would not be able to sleep this night. The beauty of her room was too fascinating. She jumped up again and started to take off her garments. Not wanting to part with them, she twirled around in delight, keeping the dress pressed closely to her body. She knew all too well that she had been bought. With the promise of freedom and magic. She didn't mind. While lovingly folding her dress, she reminded herself of her new position. A serving girl, to a dark and vengeful queen. She lay her clothes on the bed. She knew the reason Mab had come to her. And it was not because a helpless mortal had desperately needed the fairy queen's help. That hardly mattered to the girl. The real reason what a hundred times better. She was queen Mab's most loyal follower. Words Mab had refrained from saying directly out of pride. Because I am Christian. How ashamed she felt of that, for the first time in her life. It must annoy, if not hurt, Mab that she had brought a catholic to her sacred realm. Though Syrinx' religious upbringing tainted everything she said and thought, the girl swore she would not be her lady's enemy. If only there was a way to undo her baptism.

It did not take her long to find her own bath. It was already filled with the clearest water she had ever seen. Its glistening surface could easily be mistaken for the floor. Actually the bath looked more like an underground pond. Crystals surrounded it illuminating the water. Syrinx would perform a ritual of her own. For a moment she feared that faerie water would scorch her skin. It did not. It felt warm, enclosing an inner freshness. She slid into the water. The irregular crystals were smooth to her touch. She heard the water whisper as she lowered her head into its grasp. Ignoring the barely audible voice of the water, she began her vow. "I hereby pledge to do anything in my power to save this land of magic, the Old Ways and its queen, my queen." She quickly corrected herself. It was rather short, but she didn't know what else to add. Her words were sincere, she knew Mab had heard them and that they were binding.

Syrinx was fully aware that she would change here. She would become someone else, more herself, more like Mab.

"You said you would never disappear." The mountain did not open its eyes. There was hardly any magic left surrounding it. She moved closer towards the rock where Excalibur had been kept, smiling slyly. "Yet here I stand and there you lie. A broken man. Unable to move, unable to speak." She noticed a trace of melancholy in her own voice. She paused killing the emotion before it softly started choking her. Mab raised an eyebrow. "To think?" Her provocation remained unanswered. Proving her theory right, she concluded. The Fairy Queen mockingly bowed to the Mountain King picking up a stone she had kicked away not a minute ago. As this last thought did not even slightly lift her spirit she considered another possibility: he simply would not talk to her. If this was the case she couldn't care less. She had only come here to taunt him for not believing in her. She had proven him, and so many others wrong. Mab inspected a few more stones and took those with her which still held some power.

So this was the tragic Mab chapter. Interesting, when Mab is frustrated and sad I make her pace around for an entire chapter. Next time we'll start scheming to bring her back in power. (yay!)

Gloomy news: exams caught me by surprise. Will not be updating for a month. :(


	4. Crystals

Four weeks of exams and one week of partying later…

/

Syrinx skipped through the corridor. She felt very pleased with herself. She felt whole. She was proud of all the work she had done so far for her queen.

Mab had told her recently that the presence of fairies was growing stronger within the palace. Unfortunately for Syrinx this was not yet visible to human eyes. Once enough magic had returned to Mab's realm the creatures that had fled to the human world would be drawn back to the Land of Magic.

On several occasions Mab had sent Syrinx into the human world carrying messages or curious objects. The queen did not always share the purpose of these missions with her handmaiden. Syrinx knew that every action had its purpose and its price. She was happy that she could help Mab, whatever the cost.

She did not know how long she had been serving Mab now. Quite some time. The faery world did not keep time. Adjusting to that had been surprisingly easy. No day, no night. She could decide herself what to do when, or Mab would decide for her.

Mab was not a considerate mistress and Syrinx had to admit that Mab left her little time to sleep. But she had learned to manage her time. She decided herself when to tidy up, when to eat, when to practice wielding her father's sword and if she found some extra time she would sneak off to the library to compare the signs in her book to those in other books. Somehow things were slowly starting to fall into place. She learned to read a little. Undoubtedly the result of Mab's magic in the cool cave air. The queen possessed many books and scrolls. Most of them about magic. Also history, nature and subjects Syrinx did not recognise.

To Syrinx this way of life was freedom. Admittedly she did not feel terribly appreciated, but she was content with herself and grateful for every scrap of attention Mab might give her.

The queen spent almost all of her time plotting in her crystal room. Syrinx remembered when she had first entered this room.

She had immediately felt that it was a place she was not allowed to enter without Mab's permission. It had been the morning, for lack of a better word, after her arrival in Mab's realm. She could feel that Mab had been busy while she had been asleep. It felt as though the palace floor and walls had become more solid. Syrinx footsteps would faintly echo through the hallway. Mab herself had seemed less tensed as well.

Mab had gestured her to come closer.

"You are of nobility?"

"Yes, my father is a duke. He serves the king at Camelot."

"Tell me who this is." Mab had held up a crystal. Syrinx had been puzzled. She had yet to learn then that staring in crystals was not an uncommon pastime for Mab. She stayed silent. Observing Mab's emotionless gaze as the queen looked into the crystal and back to her. "Well?"

But Syrinx couldn't see anything. "I can't." she muttered.

"You can't see it? In the very centre of magic!"

Mab screamed. Syrinx felt her skull shatter. Her knees buckled. The bones in her body softly crumbled down. She did not know how long she had been unconscious. But time didn't matter here. Mab was still standing in front of her when she scrambled back up. So it can't have been too long.

"You will have to learn."

"Someone apart from you can use this magic?" Syrinx said gasping for breath, pointing to the crystals.

"Providing I allow them and they know how to use it."

Syrinx got back to her feet. Mab's hands dug into her shoulders.

Mab had asked her about the king then. An old man with an empty title and without any heirs . The members of court, who Syrinx mostly knew from her father's stories. And all the problems which kept her father in Camelot. The many lords claiming right to the throne and the chaos this brought forth.

Mab gazed at a battle field in one of her crystals. Endless war, in a way nothing had changed.

"Saxons." she said.

Syrinx' eyes widened. "They are evil. My father told me…"

"No worse than Christians." Mab interrupted. "They at least do not believe in one God."

"You mean they are your hope? Brutes who do not belong in these lands? Their tribes have been fighting the Celtic ones for decades."

"Slowly conquering my Britain."

"I do not understand, my lady, Britain has been entirely Christianized many years ago. The Saxons as well." Syrinx stuttered nervously seeing Mab's eyes darken. "Father says the Celtic tribes should unite against the invading strangers, like king Arthur wanted. But they are too busy fighting amongst themselves because of old grudges. The people need a promise of peace. A new strong king. Like Arthur."

"Arthur was Christian!" Mab hissed.

/

Syrinx' main task was cleaning. Not something she had expected to be necessary in Faerie. She frequently had to wipe all the shatters out the crystal room as Mab liked smashing things when she was displeased. Sometimes she sent Syrinx into the human world to gather more stones. The floor in Mab's palace had been littered with stones, dust, monstrous bones and weapons. Syrinx had cleaned it all up. She had invented an organising system of her own. Putting things together that looked alike, not knowing what they were. She did not want to bother Mab with her unknowingness. At rare times she had asked Mab what some of the objects she had found were for. At even rarer times she had noticed that Mab was glad she took such interest in the world of magic.

The multitude of weapons lying around, Mab had told her, had been used by her last champion to practice his fighting skills. He had practiced on monsters, whose bodies he had left on the floor often together with the weapon used to kill it. There it had lain for many years. "Monsters he could kill, one king growing old proved too much for him to handle." Mab had said with the sort of scorn in her voice that could only be the result of past mourning.

As for the magic lessons, Mab only taught her when she felt like it. Which wasn't often because Syrinx was a slow learner and, as Mab would bluntly tell her, she did not have much talent for magic.

Syrinx had attended several pagan rituals in the human world with Mab. Elderly people still performed old rituals not out of faith but as a precaution. A younger generation participated merely because the old religion was considered fashionable. Mab had decided to turn this to her advantage and strengthen their believes by appearing herself at some of these gatherings. Syrinx suspected Mab found it degrading to visit a bunch of treacherous humans. As if she was begging for attention. Mab dutifully went none the less, for it seemed the best way to restore the Old Ways. Syrinx loved going with her. She had been mistaken for a magic being often enough. Humans approached her hesitantly and with respect. She had joined every celebration for her fairy queen. Mab always kept her distance. She truly was a goddess. Shining darkness in the night. Standing by the flickering flames of their bonfire.

/

The girl carefully entered the crystal room. She bit her under lip standing by the door, expecting Mab to send her away. The queen always knew when she had entered the room. If Mab did not speak soon, it meant she wanted to be left in silent thought and Syrinx would leave. If she stayed any longer than Mab wished, the queen would get cross. She was in luck today.

"The time has come. The Old Ways need a champion." Mab said, trying to sound more optimistic than she was.

"The present king will fall soon. I have seen it." There had been many battles fought since Mab's return. She had watched them all. She had kept mostly out of it. Letting things play out, observing the different parties. After the king's death the three most powerful lords would fight each other. The outcome would be predictable. A Saxon warlord appeared in her crystal together with his two sons. One Christian, one unsure. "This will be the new king of Britain. Most of the old nobility will be spared. Your father as well."

A thin smile appeared on Mab's face. "Your ties to the high court could prove very useful." Syrinx' mind flashed to the marriage her father had arranged for her. "All in good time." Mab said. She patted her arm.

"I would do anything for you, lady." Syrinx repeated what she thought every day.

"Good." Mab's voice was void of any emotion. Clearly the queen expected no less. Somehow Syrinx knew that she always had taken such loyalty for granted.

Syrinx hands were bloodstained. She had killed, indirectly. Using crystals and magic tricks. She had looked at people who she hardly knew and had inflicted misery on them because Mab had wished it so. This had caused her many nights of sobbing. So had the armies and wars she had watched. People dying. Watching lords she could not keep apart. She had seen that the nature of nobility was very different from the exemplary lives she had heard off. Most courteous people were a disgrace to mankind. She had gotten used to the images. Mab had learned her that. She did not care anymore. Not much. Syrinx was grateful for the distance the crystals created, she could pretend the images they showed were not even real.

It was all worth it. When she had performed a spell correctly Mab would lay her hand on her shoulder. Her touch would reassure Syrinx. What she was doing was right. Mab would live, as would magic.

As Syrinx lay in her bed she could feel magic pressing on her. Always. It was all around her, overpowering. She would lie perfectly still on her side, her legs curled up. Magic closing in on her, too close, almost suffocating her. All she wanted was to get even closer. Closer to Mab. To understand her feelings. At such moments the air was filled with the queen's anger and loss. Syrinx hoped she could drive away the loneliness.

Syrinx' world was purple. A hurtful but sweet colour. Remembrances of peaceful nights spent alone in sadness. Mab's lips were purple as well. Syrinx cast down her eyes. She looked at the crystal in Mab's hand. That man, again. With the silly feather coat.

Mab did not throw the crystal away nor did she grind it to dust, she lowered her hand and let it fall to the floor where it shattered just as beautifully as her crystals always did.

"Tell me more about this sword that can decide kings." Syrinx did.

/

He was the one person who kept appearing in Mab's crystals. Sometimes to Syrinx herself as well. She could count the times he unintentionally appeared to Mab by the amount of screaming she did. A middle-aged man with a cane. Syrinx shook her head. He did not look dangerous to her. She had once dared to ask who he was.

"A blind man." Mab said.

"Merlin." Syrinx knew there was a significance in the slow manner Mab pronounced his name. Her face did not show it, but for some reason she enjoyed calling his name.

"Who is he?" Syrinx had asked.

"He was weak. He is not important to us, anymore."

For a moment she expected Mab to let out a mirthless laugh. But her queen did nothing of the kind. She took another crystal and attempted again to peer into Camelot.

Whoever he was Mab hated him. Yet she would not touch him. He disturbed her queen's visions, that in itself was reason enough to…

The whole situation annoyed Syrinx. He looked like such an ordinary man, living in the woods with his wife. No one important. It made her curious, it made her angry.


	5. The Knight

The knight

First of all: I loved writing this chapter!

Secondly: enjoy :D

/

Syrinx knew her way in the forest. She had been sent there often enough by Mab. It was curious that the Merlin-person lived so close to Mab's cave.

The sound of breaking twigs made her snap out of her thoughts. Footsteps.

"Who goes there?" A male voice.

She heard the clattering of chain mail. Silently she crouched down, grasping a wooden stick from the ground.

"Some evil fae" The stranger muttered to himself. He was close, she could hear his breath. She clasped her stick, holding it in front of her as if it were a sword.

His arm blocked her strike.

Her wide eyes gazed into his. Hard and cold blue eyes. She had never seen such eyes before. But she knew them. They made her want to run away. Her skirt swirling behind her. These eyes belonged to a knight. A brave man from the stories she had heard so often. Knights slew magical beings.

He pushed her away. Her weapon of dry wood broke by his might.

He was not wearing much armour. She could only suspect he was on a quest and had lost his horse. A courageous, wandering soul in want of justice. Worthy of the crown?

The knight, a handsome young man she observed, eyed her up as well. Syrinx could only guess what she looked like to him. He straightened his back looking down at her. A peasant girl.

"You should not be walking in these woods alone." He turned away from her.

Her mouth fell open. She wasn't even worth talking to?

She watched him stride away in a completely different direction than she was headed.

The Old Ways needed a champion.

She put herself together and ran after him.

"Wait, wait, knight! Where are you going? What are you in search of? Is it fame you seek?"

He walked further, tolerating her presence and her babbling.

"I serve my king, the lord God and my lady." He answered earnestly.

Syrinx skipped to keep up with his stride. "Oh you have a lady, have you?"

"No, not yet. I will find one and serve her till my last breath."

His serious tone of voice made her giggle. "Can't I be your lady? I can give you a quest. You seem most desperate for adventure."

He laughed at her bluntness. "You are no lady. Not of the like I am in search of."

"Then who do you want?" she snapped.

"The fairest creature ever to walk this earth." She snorted. He wasn't a knight either. He was tall kid wearing a costume and dreams. He was barely seventeen. A few years older and definitely more muscled than her, but that didn't make him more mature. In fact she felt older than him.

"I have heard of a legendary sword." she whispered. Trying to change his opinion of her. If he would succeed in becoming a hero, and his adventures would be told, she wanted to be a mysterious enchantress. Not some annoying girl he came upon.

"Nearby?" Ah, now he was interested.

"Yes, a cursed sword." She had to make it sound good.

"Is it the sword of the old king? Excalibur?"

"Well, no."

"Then I must leave you and go further on my quest." He quickened his pace. Gaining his assistance would not go as simply as she had expected.

"Wait! You are in search of Excalibur?"

"For many months now. The sword will restore peace to the land. Arthur died not far from here. They say his sword was returned to the Lady of the Lake and lost for human kind, forever."

"That sounds like an impossible mission."

"All quests are. I will not fail." Stubborn boy.

Despite her curiosity she disliked him. Syrinx used to look up to the knights in stories. Perhaps she had heard so many stories that she had become too critical of its hero's. He sensed this. He did not trust her.

"Which lord is it you serve?" she attempted.

"King Arthur."

"Arthur? He's dead!"

"His ideals still live on. And when his true follower emerges I will recognise him and pledge my alliance to him."

"Maybe you are him? I know of a noble cause." She spoke slowly. "A fair queen whose kingdom you alone can save from destruction."

But the knight choose to ignore her words. They had reached a lake. Syrinx recognised it as the lake she had passed with Queen Mab a long time ago.

"I will retrieve Excalibur to bring back peace." He muttered to himself. He approached the lake.

"This is no time for knights,"

Syrinx laughed. "Now that Christianity has conquered whole of Britain, there is no further need of hero's. And peace! In Arthur's time there was no peace. War and injustice reigned."

As if he had become deaf to her he stepped further. She shouted after him. "Camelot was an ideal, morals, chivalry, courtesy, an illusion. That is what you are chasing."

She had not expected herself to keep such a passionate plea. Yet she had felt compelled to do so by a strong sense of foreboding.

He kneeled down. To drink, she first thought but he was sitting too far from the water to reach it.

"My lady."

What was he doing?

"Kneel." He instructed Syrinx, irritated by her disrespectfulness. She did not. She stood there and observed a wrinkling in the water.

"I beg you for help." He whispered.

Syrinx jumped back as a figure emerged from the water. "Why do you need me?" The voice was soft and strangely echoing.

The knight looked up in wonder. "Aid me on my quest to retrieve Excalibur."

He strode into the water as if to reach out for her. "So that the old ways of chivalry may be revived."

A soft smile could be heard in the lady's voice but did not show on her radiant face. "Some Ways are best to be forgotten, noble knight. Men of your like are a dying race."

Syrinx found she could not move. She was uncertain if it was by shock or magic.

The lady gave her but one look, which told Syrinx she would not speak with her. She was unworthy. The lady's magic could see the girl was not innocent, not pure of heart.

So Syrinx watched the knight, how he looked at the ghostly figure floating above the water in complete adoration. His expression reminded her in a horrific way of when she had pledged her allegiance to Queen Mab.

He spoke, his lips reaching up to the lady as a drowning man gasping for air. Only to be overwhelmed by another gulf of water. He buckled. Syrinx could not see whether this happened because of the water or by his own will. He was kneeling in front of the lady.

Syrinx expected him to talk, maybe he did, but she could not hear him. The lake water though silent of movement had become loud with the sound of magic. The mystic lady still floated several feet above the water surface. The knight's head hung low. She could not see whether his mouth and nose were in the water or not. Could he still breathe?

Lady did nothing, nothing at all as the water rose. It was the knight himself who moved forward, deeper into the water, to his death.

The lady looked at Syrinx with sad white eyes.

The girl leaped into the water.

"Knight! Knight!" She did not even know his name.

The lady raised a hand. Not touching her, as she had also not touched the knight. It was as if the Lady had placed a magic barrier around her to keep the world from touching her.

"Let him go!" Syrinx screamed closing the distance between her and the Lady. She stood where the knight had been. She could not see him. She hurried deeper into the water. Her arms grasping for his body.

An eerie whisper rippled the water and made the hair on the back of Syrinx' neck stand up. "I will not negotiate with you, dear." Syrinx stood still in the water. She felt its pressure surrounding her. "You betrayed everyone who you ever loved and who ever loved you for someone you barely know. You betrayed your faith." That was true, Syrinx had not looked at it that way. This was not the moment to discuss this. She nodded slowly. Loudly thinking: but it was my choice!

She clenched her teeth as she walked deeper into the water, where she could hardly stand up anymore. "Give me back the knight!"

"So like your mistress." The lady whispered and she was gone.

"Missy!"

Fiercely Syrinx searched the water. She glared at the water in front of her.

"Miss! Miss!" A high pinched voice she choose to ignore. Should she go deeper into the lake? She could not see anything in the water. The lake was closing in on her.

"Miss!"

Looking behind her she saw another person approaching the lakeside. He had a funny way of running. "Leave me!"

She decided she should dive. The current took her.

Someone grabbed her by the waist, dragging her out of the pulling water.

She caught her breath at the shore, a fist clenched to her chest. He had saved her life. The old man who was looking far too smug for his age. Syrinx was dripping wet.

"Thanks." She whispered hoarsely.

He grinned.

"What were you doing?"

She frowned at him. "That is my business."

She turned to look at the water. Silent, crystal clear water. She felt tears for the knight in the back of her eyes.

In thought she cursed the lady. She hoped her waters would dry up in the very near future. Syrinx cleared her throat. Breathing was still a bit difficult. She spit in the water. "Melusine!" She cried out. "Nymphomane! Water nix!"

The water stayed silent. Making even her doubt the reality of what just happened.

"You have some curious objects in your basket." The old man said.

"Hey, keep out of my things." Syrinx strode towards him, taking back the basket she had let fall to the ground when the mythical lady had appeared.

"I collect stones."

"And the herbs?"

"For my mother."

"You are planning on poisoning her then?"

"That is none of your business." She turned her back on him, feeling that this was someone she could easily start a fight with.

He had recognised the items much used in long forgotten pagan rituals. He was intrigued. He caught up with her.

"What exactly made you abandon your family?" Oh so he had seen and heard all that had happened. How great.

"The lady I serve asked me to."

Frik chuckled. "Mab never asks, dearie."

"You know her?"

"I knew her. I knew her when she could still appreciate a beautiful sunset and the human side of nature. I stopped knowing her when she changed."

"Changed?" Syrinx froze in her stride. Only now she looked at the curious figure in front of her.

He bowed in a quite silly manner. "I am Frik. A powerless gnome and the best gentleman's gentleman alive.

I came here from Camelot because I felt magic stir. I did not suspect to find …" He grinned revealing his big front teeth. "your mother returned."

Syrinx began to feel uneasy by him. "What do you want?"

"Safety, and some pleasant light conversation.

I am on my way to the village. See, I can not visit the mistress of magic on an empty stomach, and my bones are aching with age after a long day's travel."

She looked at the sweet old gnome as were he a mad man.

"We will meet again, missy." He waved at her.

Syrinx stood baffled at the lakeside as she watched him walk away. A small voice in her head chanted the word coward at him. She did not know why.

Syrinx left the cursed lake and the harshness of the human world. She quickly returned to fairyland. Where all was peaceful, where all was illusion.

As Syrinx had expected Mab did not notice her sadness. The queen only ever took note of her own mood swings. In a way this was more comforting to Syrinx than if she had cared. She felt grateful for Mab's lack of interest. Though her queen did frown at her silence.

Next chapter: the gnome

Yes Bellatrix Lepus, will Mab ever notice?


	6. The Gnome

Enjoy

/

"I want him to come home." Mab gripped the crystal more tightly.

But the land of magic wasn't home to Merlin.

She stood in the library. Syrinx was sitting in tailor's posture a few meters off reading a fairy book.

Merlin still looked the same age as the day he defeated her. "He used magic, betraying his vow to Ambrosia once again." A pleased smirk appeared on Mab's delicate face.

She gazed down at Syrinx. "You do not know what I am speaking off."

"No, your highness." She could no longer call her lady. Not after what had happened to the knight the moment he choose his lady.

"It doesn't matter." Mab smashed the crystal inches from where Syrinx was sitting. The thunderclap that accompanied her strike made the girl jump up. "I can not rely on him for anything. Living as a human with his mortal love."

Who is this Merlin? Syrinx dared not ask again. Her queen did not like questions about the past.

She tried to concentrate on the book and found she couldn't. Not with Mab in the room. Though she was the main reason Syrinx was trying to read all this stuff.

Her fascination for the magical world had made Syrinx commence these studies. Now the subjects had gotten too hard to really interest her.

Mab hadn't demanded such dedication towards her studies. Running errands and cleaning were a full time job as it was. Syrinx kept studying none the less.

She wanted to. Queen Mab was all she lived for now. To see her move, to see her smile. Sometimes, very rarely, Mab would smile at her, without saying anything. Syrinx liked to imagine a fondness in her smile. Her majesty's face was difficult to read.

/

A thread of magic tugged at Syrinx. She immediately knew that someone was in the caves deep within the palace. She was to fetch this person and bring him before her mistress.

She waved her hand over a candle to lighten it. This was one of the few magic gestures she could perform faultlessly. She stepped into the darkness of the caves.

"Miss,"

/

Syrinx noticed the faint shape of the gnome in the shadows.

She hadn't expected him to come. She had even less expected Mab to receive him.

"I will show you the way."

"I know the way."

Syrinx swiftly strode through the corridors.

"Not so fast, dear. I am an old man."

"You were quick enough to save me from drowning

er I never thanked you for that, did I?"

Frik grinned. "You're welcome."

She guided him to an open door. "Queen Mab will receive you now."

Frik held his head high while walking making it quite obvious that he was dead nervous.

Mab did not blast him at first sight much to Syrinx' surprise for the queen did not hide her anger at seeing him.

"Traitor." she hissed.

Frik picked up the courage needed to approach the throne.

Walking to the queen unhappily reminded him of the last time they had met. Then however he had been able to run off when he wished to.

Frik bowed.

He waited for the queen to speak. She gloated. "You have come to beg forgiveness."

"I hate you as fiercely as that day at Tintagel castle."

The air thickened. "You used to chose your words with more care, Frik."

"I do apologize, madam. The years have blunted my tongue. If I may point out, your words never were smooth either."

Mab glared at him. "It took you longer than I expected to return."

"Ah, madam. Here I fear you are mistaken. I came on the girl's behalf. The one you've abducted."

"Abducted?" Mab let out a laugh. A breathtakingly hollow laugh.

She looked less surprised than Syrinx was.

"State your business and go. I will not waste time on a mere gnome."

Her eyes shone like molten lava. It puzzled Syrinx why Mab had not yet harmed him. For some reason she was being patient with him. Either that or she felt like playing with the creature.

"My words are for the girl." Mab cast him a dangerously bored look.

"She.." Frik's words hampered. He quickly retook his sentence. "She is but human. No matter how far you push her.

She will need instructions from someone with expertise in this profession."

Mab rose from her seat. "You will stay here, Frik. I will spare your life since you have come of your own accord. I guarantee you your stay will not be a happy one."

"The duration?" his voice trembled.

"Undecided."

"Shall I prepare a room, your majesty?" Syrinx suggested as Frik bowed again, hoping Mab wouldn't strike him.

Mab moved her head sideways, her raven hair waved through the air.

"You will sleep in the dungeons, Frik."

"Nice I'll have a bit of redecorating to do."

"Shall I remove the er torture devises?" Syrinx quickly suggested

"No, that won't be necessary."

"Are you always like this?" Frik asked Syrinx.

"Like what?"

"Overeagerly helpful."

The gnome wasn't there to steel her job, Syrinx kept repeating this to herself, but she did feel a tension between them. She wanted to prove herself.

"You are dismissed." Mab said, gazing at Syrinx.

The girl hid her disappointment and turned round to leave the room

Frik grinned.

A teasing smile slid on Mab's face. "Both of you."

/

"I know you are afraid." Frik spoke softly, he paused.

"Because if she comes back into power you will no longer be useful to her. She will leave you behind. Replace you. No, Mab won't feel a thing when she does. She won't miss you, ever. She does not care for her employees."

"Speaking out of experience?" Syrinx said sourly.

She did not want to hear his story.

"Child, you are kind hearted, and human. You cannot keep this work up. No matter how hard you try, how much you want this, you can never keep it up. There will come a time, very soon, when you will break.

I wish to warn you, that is why I came, you need to know some things about queen Mab."

Syrinx shook her head. Not from you, she thought, I do not want to hear them from you.

"Not many humans have dwelled here. Mab prefers magical servants. It seems she hasn't got much choice now. Otherwise you wouldn't be here.

You can not live up to her standard."

"From what I saw back there you couldn't either." Syrinx muttered.

He gasped for air as if insulted. "Miss, I served her for hundreds of years!"

The times the queen had been frustrated by Syrinx' lack of magic and her need for sleep haunted Syrinx' mind. Mab never hid when she was but the tiniest bit displeased.

Frik knew more about Queen Mab, possibly more than Mab herself did, Syrinx could feel it in her bones. She longed to learn all he knew, she feared it at the same time.

"Is Merlin human?"

"Merlin?"

"Yes, he used to serve her as well. Didn't he?"

"He er She told you about Merlin?"

Syrinx gazed into the gnome's big white eyes, hardening her facial expression.

"Is that so strange?"

"Yes."

"Merlin was, is a former project of hers. He did not want to be part of her plans. A wise man.

She lost interest in him."

"Why?"

"Because he defied her.

She will not hesitate to take whatever, to hurt whoever dearest to you to achieve her goals."

"I believe she does whatever she has to save her world." Syrinx whispered. "That is an admirable quality."

He snorted. "She only wants to ensure her own survival.

Look around this place, miss! It's empty and lost. Yet she is still so set on her one-woman war." He gazed through the corridors. "Ah she truly is alone now.

No more subjects, but you. You're not magical at all."

"Her magic was strong enough to lure you here." Syrinx snapped.

He would not know how the palace had changed since she and Mab arrived. Creatures had returned to roam the land of magic now. Magical creatures who liked to keep themselves hidden. Frik possessed no magic. He, like Syrinx herself, could not see them if they did not want to be seen. This thought made her feel a bit better.

"You should be careful, girl. You are more er breakable than Mab will hold into account.

The people she decides to use for her own purposes never seem to have very long nor happy lives."

Syrinx shook her head. "I will not hear the words of an imp!"

"Gnome."

"Whatever.

I am happier here than I ever was!"

"You know that is not true."

She glared at him. He should know it was.

At times serving the temperamental queen was agony. Still she would not trade it for the human world.

"I know her, I can tell you what she was like and teach you what you need to know. To survive." He hesitated, trying to decide whether he could trust the young human with further information. "I can help you find a way to leave her service safely."

Syrinx marched away from the gnome in anger. Frik skipped after her.

"I did not mean to frighten you! Please listen to me!"

"Stop following me." Syrinx grunted.

"You cannot save her!"

Syrinx looked up. Save her? She had not been under the distinct impression the queen herself needed saving. Yet upon hearing these words everything she felt seemed to fall into place.

Yes, she was afraid. Afraid of loosing her fairy queen.

Frik continued to speak to the dazed girl. "Heed my warning. I served her when she had more power and a heart. I stood by her side for too long.

She lost parts of who she is, she fights to preserve who she is."

Syrinx nodded. He had told her this before, she had sensed this before.

"I aided her in this. Too late I realized that everything I wanted to save was already lost. Do not let the same thing happen to you! Do not make her hurt you beyond repair before you allow yourself to see what she has become."

Certainly he had been rehearsing this conversation before he came here.

Frik saw he was not getting through to the girl.

"Mab has lost everything I once wished to serve long time ago. She is deluding you with the luxuries of her magic." Frik wanted to grab hold of the girl's shoulders and shake some sense into her.

"She is forcing you to do her bidding. Even if," The gnome took her hands. "you don't believe me now, remember there is always a way out.

Mab, she has a…"

"Frik! Do not keep my girl from her duties."

"Madam" yelped Frik.

He put on a brave(r) face.

"Forgive my curiosity, fair Queen Mab, but what use is a pretty young human to you?"

Mab glared at him.

His body crashed into the wall. Syrinx backed away.

"Mark my words, gnome." Mab strode towards him.

"I have but one reason for allowing you to stay here. You know too much to wander around in the outside world. By keeping you here you cannot work against me."

She bent over him, her voice but a whisper. "I will not tolerate your trickery" she smiled "if you do not heed my warning I will dispose of you in more final way."

"Y .. Yes ma'am."

She grabbed him by the neck, jerking him up. "Is there anything I can do ma'm?" he babbled "clean some crystals perhaps?"

"You will never enter my inner sanctum again, nor will I ever return your powers.

Go find yourself something to do, Frik, I care not what. When I find use for you, you will know."

He bowed, shaking on his feet. "Yes, madam."

/

Syrinx sat crouched on her bed.

She would often stay awake, thinking about what happened that day at the lake.

With much effort she had succeeded in putting the knight's death behind her. She had taken all the time she needed to do this.

There was but one problem: She heard the voices in the water more clearly than before. She knew now, it was but one voice the water carried. The Lady's.

Sometimes she was afraid that white hands would reach up to pull her under as she took her bath.

"Please," Syrinx prayed. "let me sleep without nightmares tonight."

Syrinx eyes grew wide when Mab appeared in her bedroom.

"You were praying to me. I presume you were hoping I would come?"

Syrinx fiddled with her nightgown. This visit was most improper. Mab however did not look like she thought her intrusion was inappropriate. So perhaps it wasn't. "Yes.

Forgive me, your highness."

"You can call me Mab. Your highness and majesty are too vague to my liking."

"Queen Mab, I was taught to pray before going to sleep. I used to, to God, but since you came, even before that, I prayed to you."

"I am aware of that."

"You know?" Syrinx gazed up at the goddess. "Do you know everything I have ever confided in you? And about the knight?"

"Of course."

"The lake, the lady…"

"She is always interfering with my business. Though she feigns to be passive of nature." Mab hissed, walking the length of the room.

"She spoke the truth. I…" Mab turned to look Syrinx in the eye.

She dared not speak again. Mab's slender fingers took hold of her face. "I do not want you to keep secrets from me. Not ever."

Her emerald eyes pierced into Syrinx'.

"I … I.." She tried to nod, but Mab's grasp was too strong. "I won't."

An amused glitter appeared in Mab's expression. She let go of her.

Syrinx took a deep breath. Her queen had instructed to tell her everything.

Don't make me regret this, Syrinx thought and started sharing her concerns. "I did betray everyone I ever held dear because of you."

Mab remained silent, of course she would. After all fairies couldn't deny the truth.

"Do you regret it?"

"No." Syrinx sighed. She ruffled her hair. "Does that make me a wicked person?"

"I don't know." Mab sounded as self-assured as ever.

There was one question Syrinx had been meaning to ask her mistress for a long time now.

"My queen, I.."

"Have you taken good care of them?"

Syrinx jumped out of her bed. "I have."

She walked over to where Mab was standing.

She looked into a small wooden box. The transparent figures of about twenty fairies were to be seen.

Mab touched one of them. The pixie fluttered her wings, landing on Mab's hand.

Syrinx looked in awe. The teeny fairy fell back to sleep.

Mab placed her back into the box.

Taking on a form made them tired.

"They are still weak. The believe of one person is not enough to reawaken all of the spirits here. They will need more time and energy." Mab's mind was already plotting new plans.

She patted Syinx' cheek. "You did well."

A mischievous smile appeared on Mab's face. "Frik underestimates you and my teaching."

"My queen,"

"Yes?" Mab sounded impatient again.

"Did you ever have wings?"

There it was. The question.

Mab remained silent.

"You must remember such times." Or maybe she did not?

"This is no time to dwell on the past." Mab hissed, guiding Syrinx back to her bed.

Syrinx climbed into bed. She drew the covers over her legs.

"You must not let the gnome get in your way. He lost my favour long time ago."

"What did he do?" Syrinx asked, tiredly placing her hand before her mouth.

Mab took her hand away. "He helped destroy me."

She kissed the girl's forehead. Syrinx gasped at the small sizzling of magic that accompanied that touch. "I know you won't, my dear."

Softly Mab pushed Syrinx down on the bed.

The sheets felt softer than they used to. The girl knew she would have no trouble falling asleep tonight.

Mab gazed at her for a moment. Syrinx looked and felt happier than she ever had before.

Mab averted her eyes and walked away.

"My sister will not harm you, not without your permission. It is against her principles."


	7. Visions and Plans

Here we go: Mab's masterplan er Mabsterplan takes form.

The fun is getting started :D

I'll be going on vacation soon so next chapter may take a month.

/

Queen Mab was standing by the lake. The sunset coloured the rocky ground a pale orange.

It had been many years since she last was here.

She remembered it as if it were mere seconds ago. The moment her sister had chosen sides.

Mab's vengeful heart ached in her chest, she knew it would never find rest.

How terribly ironic that her watery sister should have grown more powerful. The one who had accepted her fate. She lived on by the stories Mab's former champion spread. She who didn't mind being forgotten. While Mab herself… Mab refused to complete that thought. It sounded too much like some snide comment Frik would make. Don't you just love having a sister?

She would hit the gnome without thought. He had always had an uncanny talent of knowing what she was thinking about and then saying exactly the wrong thing. She would hit him, blast him, scold him, … the muscles in her hands tensed. Not yet, no more.

Mab was too tired to be angry. She sat down on a rock. It remained silent. "Sister?"

"I am here." The water whispered back.

"The girl is gone."

The Lady of the Lake hovered quietly above the water.

"I have seen how close you stayed to her." The Lady's whispers sounded almost concerned.

"You never let her out of your sight. As if...You were afraid you'd disintegrate without her."

Mab cast down her eyes.

The fallen Queen took off her shoes. She stepped into the water. Her strength was fading fast. She knew she would not make midnight.

"Join me, sister." The Lady said.

Mab sternly shook her head. Despite her reluctance she advanced.

/

The crystal turned white. Mab forced her breath to level.

It was not a vision. It couldn't have been.

"Do not try to understand her." Frik's hushed voice echoed through the library. "It will only make you more lost."

A smirk tugged at the corner of Mab's mouth. "Stop trying to turn her against me, Frik."

"Girl, fetch your sword."

Syrinx bowed. "Yes, Queen Mab."

Frik noticed how Mab revelled in this moment. Being called by her name intensified her existence.

He felt like grunting in despair. The dark Queen did not deserve Syrinx' loyalty.

/

Mab did not like the way Frik's gawky eyes were watching her. She slapped him hard across the face. That made her feel better.

She exhaled. "We have found use for you."

"We?"

"It was the girl's idea."

His mouth fell open. "Jealous? Why don't you explain it to him, dear."

Syrinx had just entered the room. Her father's sword clutched in her hand. She was panting from running through the corridors.

"Mistress?"

"Yes, Syrinx." The girl could not recall Mab ever having used her name before. She was rather charmed by it.

Syrinx approached them.

Her cheeks slightly flushed when she looked at Mab. There were more questions in her head since last night. Requests, to be perfectly honest.

"Tell the gnome how you came in my service."

"I found.. a book in my father's old study. With stories in it and pictures of fairies, of her majesty er Mab"

"Oh no."

He shook his head in denial. Mab laughed at Frik's shock.

"Syrinx, meet the author." she said.

"Hand me the sword."

She laid the sword in Mab's hands, careful not to touch her skin. It seemed disrespectful to touch a Queen without explicit permission.

"You never finished writing those fairytales. I want you to finish your work."

"But you said…"

Mab glared at him, he fell silent.

/

"Reading has become very fashionable amongst nobility. My father used to say that books are the future.

They are made to survive centuries. I have heard of monks writing all day. They will keep copying books for all eternity."

Mab smiled as Frik got on to her plan.

He would have to stay forever in the Land of Magic making copies for distribution around human kind. Ensuring that they would never forget the fairy Queen.

"Some vague rumours from peasants aren't enough to survive." Queen Mab said.

Syrinx was standing there looking rather detached from the conversation. She couldn't help but wonder when she had started to refer to her father in a past tense.

"Remembering is not the same as believing." Frik muttered.

Almost reluctantly Mab lifted the sword from her side.

"I know that!" She hit Frik on the shoulder with the flat of the blade.

He landed on the floor, groveling at her feet.

"You do not know what it is like to be truly forgotten." she hissed.

"Stories will put the people on the right track.

I will turn Merlin's own tactic to my benefit. We will need more stories, new stories and rumours. I will create more myself by appearing before humans. Furthermore, there will be stories from the heart of Camelot itself. Soon these books, my stories, will be recited at court."

Syrinx was overjoyed at the prospect of having the last blank pages of her book filled. She had planned on completing the book herself once her writing had improved, this was better by far. More than ever she recognised the book as a wonderful gift.

"Now the sword."

Mab held it in front of her as to present it to her champion. She looked at the girl with a gleam in her eyes.

"Can you wield it?"

Syrinx nodded slowly, not entirely able to stop smiling. She had learned the basics.

"When you see it again, you will have to use it. Do not disappoint me, I have plans for it.

After that the sword will belong to my champion." She added smugly. "As will you."

The girl stiffened. The sword disappeared by magic.

The Queen gestured the girl towards the crystals before she could say anything.

/

Syrinx frowned deeply at Mab. She took a deep breath, trying to clear her head.

Queen Mab had expressed her desire to prove Syrinx' worth to Frik before she had tucked her in. There was no escaping this.

Mab selected a crystal, she pressed it in Syrinx' hand.

"Show the crabby old gnome what you've learned, my dear."

The Queen was standing close to her. Her chest softly rising and falling against Syrinx' back. The girl felt her face redden.

Syrinx peered into the crystal. She tried to see past its enthralling structure. She saw a spark of magic flicker in front of her eyes. It was teasing her through the lines of the crystal. Concentration was hard to find. Syrinx gritted her teeth. She needed to get the magic to show itself to her.

"Go on."

Mab's hands slid over her arms.

A clear image appeared in the crystal. Mab smiled triumphantly.

Syrinx had expected to hear a displeased grunt behind her from where Frik was standing. The gnome did not make a sound.

Syrinx shuddered.

"What is it?

What do you see?"

"My father." Syrinx whispered. Kneeling in front of.." She narrowed her eyes, but could not get a clear view at the person sitting on a dark throne. "a king. He is .. begging."

"For his life?"

Syrinx swallowed. "Mine."

Mab took the crystal from her hand. "It is not the present." She cast a disdainful look at it and threw it in front of Frik.

The gnome jumped out of the way as if it were a weapon thrown at him.

"Do you want revenge?" Mab asked.

Syrinx pressed her lips together. Revenge for not being loved in the human world. She felt regret.

Not for leaving the people she once loved but for the way they had disappointed her. Even since she arrived here she had been too preoccupied with this world to feel anger about how she was treated at her former home.

She did not want revenge. The thought had never crossed her mind until Mab suggested it. As it turned out, they weren't worth it.

Syrinx thought of her father, in far off Camelot. She was not sure whether she missed him or not. She was not sure if she ever had.

"You will go back."

The girl turned around, facing Mab.

"Why?"

"I told you before, to take me there."

The Queen walked pensively around the girl.

"You will have to wed." Syrinx' face turned to horror. "You are nobility are you not?"

"No, mistress please."

"You can help me by binding yourself to a man." Mab was smiling.

A sickening feeling rose in Syrinx.

She had always respected whatever Mab preferred not to tell.

She had felt this coming. That is why she had never asked the Queen about her future servitude. She had wished her premonition was false, in a way she still did.

"My .. my father, he does not know where I am. I won't be.. I will have lost my status by now.

They wouldn't approve of me having spent my time in pagan fairytales. They'll think me mad."

"Au contraire, your father believes you safe, taken away to be educated until you are a lady at a…" Mab's voice hampered. "monastery." she managed to say. She took a pause after this word as if she needed to recover.

But I am not safe, the girl thought. I never have and never will be.

/

"Your father wants you to marry his best friend. Some high lord. Do not worry, I will take care of that.

I want you to concentrate on the two royal brothers."

"Two?"

Mab nodded. "The king has two sons Edward and Elgar. I want them to confront each other."

Syrinx backed away from Mab's touch. "I might not be Christian anymore, but I will never forget the ideals with which I was brought up.

You can not ask me to start a war!" Her voice broke. Raising her voice against Mab could not be a good idea. She was already wishing she hadn't. She did not dare look her Queen in the eye. She did not want to anger her.

"I don't want to be the cause of more death."

Mab noticed her troubled face. "There is no other way." Her words were cold. The almost caring voice Syrinx had wanted to wrap around her the other night was gone.

"Patience, my dear. You will not have to do much."

Mab's hands stroked Syrinx' upper arms again, for once the girl did not take notice.

Her body was shaking.

"Need I remind you that you promised to do anything for me?"

Syrinx shook her head. She tried to keep the anger from her voice and the tears from her eyes. "I will do what you wish. Though I do not want to."

She could feel Mab's triumphant smile without looking at her. The sort of smile she had been dreaming to bring to her face. Now she found she did not care.

"The Saxon king, after barely two years on the throne, will meet a most unfortunate fate while hunting." Sarcasm pierced through Mab's voice.

"He will survive but will be weak, his spirit will leave him within the week. These are his sons."

An image appeared in a new crystal. Syrinx did not look at the crystal. Mab turned her face towards it by grabbing her by the neck. "Edward, the Christian one is next in line for the crown." Clearly something Mab wanted to prevent.

"Which is he?"

"The one on the right."

"The other one is your champion."

"Yes. Elgar. He is more attractive than his brother as well. Wouldn't you agree?"

The girl paid more attention to the lingering hand in the back of her hair than to the young man in Mab's crystal.

Syrinx knew Queen Mab would make her like the man if she did not approve of him.

Mab used magic to influence people's private lives. Spells of passion and heartbreak, which Syrinx had not been allowed to perform.

Her Queen had decided that she would be a victim. Syrinx found this greatly unsettling, but there was nothing she could do about it.

The image faded and Mab released her.

The pile of crystals disappeared as well. The Queen had sent it back to her crystal room.

Silence made it obvious that Mab had told them all she wanted to share. They were free to go.

Rubbing her arms to calm herself down Syrinx turned away from the Queen.

Frik had taken aback during the conversation. Syrinx was grateful for that. She did not need his I-told-you-so speech.

It was true and she knew it. Mab did not care.

She wanted to cry. Though Mab would not pity her, even if she did cry.

Once before she had let a few tears fall down her face in front of her. The Queen had tilted her head in wonder -Syrinx could not help but love when she did that- and then choose to ignore her servant's sadness.

/

The first thing she saw when entering her room were the clothes on her bed. A dress of a more human design.

Mab had seen no reason to tally.

Despite the rebellion in her heart and mind Syrinx knew as well as Mab did that she would obey and leave the fairy hill without a fight.

Syrinx took her time to take off her clothes and put the new ones one.

She did not want to leave.

She did want to make Mab proud. Her hands caressed her fairy clothing. Unwillingly letting some tears drip onto the fabric.

She gazed into a mirror. Syrinx had barely noticed her shape in the mirror before. It was as though this was the first time she saw her reflection since her arrival.

She had grown older, something she had not expected in Faerie. Something she surprisingly had not noticed during her stay. She had grown at least three years older since her time in the human world.

She wanted to beg Mab to stay, kneel down and clutch at her dress. Syrinx shook her head. She was stronger than that.

She turned her attention back to the mirror. She was pretty. That was quite surprising as well.

Syrinx was sure that if she hadn't been reasonably pretty Mab would have offered fairy beauty to her. There was a faint trace of glitter on her cheeks. She did not know whether this realisation should make her smile or cry. She did both.

Despite her grief the new question constantly haunted in her mind. Truthfully it was an old question. It had been slumbering in her mind for a very long time. Only now it had risen to the surface. Spoken out loud the question would make her red with shame.

Another thing she regretted was that as a mere human she could use a little magic in the Land of Magic itself, but would not be able to do any outside of Faerie.

"What have you done to me, Mab?" she sighed.

Frik intruded her thoughts by barging into the room.

/

"Her majesty is ready to see you."

Mab's magic shoved him out of the way as the Queen herself entered.

Syrinx rose from her seat, having quickly wiped away her tears. She was ready for inspection.

A tiny smile appeared in the left corner of Mab's lips as she paced around the trembling but brave girl.

"Have no fear, girl, you will go to Camelot, pray to me, follow my advice and I will be there soon."

Mab's eyes would not meet Syrinx'.

The Queen encircled her up close. Her fingers traced the upper brim of Syrinx' purple corset.

The question screamed inside her head.

Mab walked another circle without touching her. Syrinx knew the queen was talking to Frik about the suitability of the human clothes, but she failed to hear the words. She noticed she was holding her breath until Mab would verbalize her approval and step back.

Mab did take a step back to Frik.

All Syrinx could think about was asking Mab whether she couldn't stay or whether Mab wouldn't come with her.

She did not want to be alone. Alone at a court full of people she barely knew. She reminded herself that her father would be there. She knew him better than she knew this fae goddess. This thought did not help. Mab was more familiar to her than anyone else and she wanted to keep it that way.

Queen Mab was her beautiful picture from the forbidden fairy book.

Syrinx' fingertips were still wet from crying. She wanted permission to touch the Queen just once. Permission to gently rub those black eyes with her thumb and see whether the ink would smear her pale face.

As the Queen finally looked her directly in the eye the girl was certain she saw the question in her eyes and mind.

/

Author's note: Mab, you spoke French! *runs towards Mab, starts kissing her arm*

*clears throat* hope you enjoyed this chapter, please review


	8. Frustration

I apologize for the extreme long wait.

This isn't even the chapter I had intended to post. It is only half of it.

The story is still going, that is what is important. And I know exactly where it's going.

Enjoy :)

/

"Stay with me."

Mab shook her head.

/

Bloody Fae.

Syrinx was stranded in the middle of a forest. She walked further down a rocky path. It barely looked like a path. The girl would not even have noticed its presence if queen Mab hadn't pointed it out to her.

She was on her way towards Camelot, or so she supposed. She had no idea where she was. These woods were strange to her.

/

"From here on you must go alone to Camelot." Mab had said once her magic had brought the two of them to the woods. Although the queen had been standing right in front of Syrinx, she looked detached from their surrounding.

"If you can't come any closer to Camelot, at least give me some protection. I need something to defend myself with. It's not safe. Alone in the woods. If I had some … magic? Or something to cut..."

"Not until you reach your destination."

/

Another bush caught her skirt. That bloody queen.

Syrinx had been walking for half a day. She felt filthy. She had nothing to eat or drink. No, of course a goddess wouldn't think of that.

As Mab wouldn't need any food herself. Food wasn't essential to her plan. Of course not.

Hungry Syrinx, well fed Syrinx. It made no difference to Mab. Alive Syrinx arriving at Camelot was all she needed. It might not matter to her majesty, but it was damn inconveniable to her serving girl!

A tear made its way through the fabric when she pulled her skirt free from the branches. Hiking in evening dress and corset, it was almost comical. It would be comical, if the unlucky person in question hadn't been herself.

The brim of her dress was getting muddier by the minute.

She would made a fine impression at court, arriving like that.

Would they even let her in? Weak, fragile, exhausted. Probably, after all she was wearing expensive looking clothes.

If magic could not get Mab any close to Camelot, couldn't she at least have given her one of her own horses back? Syrinx would have to make up some unlikely excuse for traveling without horse or companions.

Robbers that was a possibility. No, fairies. She laughed bitterly to herself. Wild pagans in search of living sacrifice.

She should be happy of course that she had not been reduced to dust when she set foot on human soil. Oh, why couldn't she have fallen to dust? Her feet would not hurt this much if she had. The memory of Faerie would not fade if she had.

She concluded that time had behaved rather normal during her stay in Mab's realm either because it was, like its mistress, still weak or because Mab had simply allowed the girl to grow older during her stay and remain the same on arriving.

This walk gave her time to figure out an explanation to all sorts of things for which she did not really feel she needed one.

/

A sweet and secretive smile appeared on Mab's face.

"I have given you all you need, lovely. I will help you once I am there. You will be perfectly safe until then."

Please, please come with me, Syrinx had begged in her mind. On the outside she had remained silent and bit her lower lip.

Mab had disappeared.

/

Her situation did not change for many hours. She was on foot and filthy. She had taken off her shoes miles ago. After dragging them along for a long time her tiredness had won from her vanity and she left them behind. Then her feet started hurting more by lack of shoes. Practicality won in the end and she returned to fetch her shoes.

Her clothes were heavy. Getting heavier with every frustrated thought. All directed at queen Mab.

Would hate give the fairy queen the same amount of power she needed to survive as adoration?

Syrinx continued to make her way through the ever and un- changing forest, feeling like she was some maiden in distress.

Undoubtedly this was what Mab had in plan for her.

A dragon and a hero to save her. Both waiting just around the corner.

All those childhood stories about wild animals in the woods. Yes, my queen, I am as safe can be. I make a perfect target for rogues and hunters.

And there he was. As if he had heard her thoughts. A hunter.

A rider on a horse looked down on her with keen interest.

Another rider, a servant, appeared by his side. They were soon followed an entire company.

"Look you here!" shouted yet another one. He bore resemblance to the first in posture and attitude.

Noblemen no doubt, judging from their arrogance.

Syrinx glanced around. She knew Mab would be watching this somehow.

/

She had never seen two brothers so different yet so alike.

"We were expecting you sooner." one said.

"I .. I was"

"We are lucky to have found you, lady Syrinx."

The brothers shifted on their horses, both wanting to off her a place on his steed.

In the end a man of lesser rank was ordered to share a horse with a servant.

The eldest prince dismounted his horse. He wanted to help Syrinx onto the horse. She smiled at this small act of chivalry.

A sword was dangling from his waist. One she would recognise anywhere. She held her tongue, took the hand offered to her and mounted the horse.

They rode, without talking much.

When she had left the human world she had been expected to marry after spending three months in a cloister. She gathered that it was now two if not three years later. Yet they did not seem surprised at her coming. More of Mab's work she supposed. She had a remarkable talent for mind games.

The horse ride lulled her mind into nothingness. Riding to Camelot could not have felt more unreal. The feeling of Fairy was slipping her. It left her hollow, and in doubt which world was real. If any.

She was mortal, she was home. Yet now she felt illusionary.

She convinced herself that she would not spend another thought on past nonsense and do whatever Mab asked of her. Focus on the present. The woods, the horses, the princes.

At the moment she could not remember which brother Mab wanted her to marry.

/

"Madam, didn't you… you used to be more er respectful towards your followers?"

"No."

"I do believe…"

"No."

"Sending the girl away…"

"Frik." A small whimpering noise escaped his throat. "Do you wish to be beaten unconscious?"

"No, madam."

Serving queen Mab felt exactly like it used to. The two of them, plotting, arguing, as if he had never betrayed her, as if she had never died.

"The girl is useful to me. She is mine to take advantage of. She has done all she can here to ensure my and my kind's existence."

"You don't want her around anymore?"

"Not when she can be more of more use elsewhere." Mab dismissively waved her hand.

An unwanted memory of Morgan's usefulness and death crossed Frik's mind.

"But don't you… feel anything?"

The queen ignored him.

He inched a bit closer to her. "Feelings, queen Mab? Ever heard of those?"

Pause, silence, safe. "You make others suffer because of your own heartlessness. Are you aware of that? Because I think the girl might.. "

"Frik, stop it!"

"Yes, madam."

With a contemplated look Mab continued to gaze into her crystals.

He had told her old news. She knew all too well the results of her actions and was aware every single emotion that lived in Syrinx.

She spoke again when he did not expect her to anymore. "I am grateful." she said. "For the girl."

Frik backed away to take his leave.

Mab turned to meet him. "I did not choose her. She is not a champion in any way. She was the only person available. A young girl, Christian." She spat the word out.

Frik's eyes checked the way out. He was afraid of the temperamental creature under Mab's icy exterior that might be unleashed at any moment. He could tell by the cruel glow in her eyes.

Mab's voice softened. "Yet, she has proven loyal." She wrinkled her nose at him. "Now get out before I make you."

Frik hurried away in a crouched manner, slipping over the rock floor.

/

Next time: Court


	9. Court

This should not have been a difficult chapter to write, but it was.

I am so glad it's over. :p

/

The men looked normal. They were no heroes from legend, no monsters either.

They were standing in front of the castle, and amongst them, was her father. The Duke.

He looked like the man she once called father. He also looked like a stranger.

She dismounted her horse.

Her father gave the order to inform everyone of her arrival and gather in the main hall.

Father and daughter smiled politely at each other as servants started to rush around.

He looked the part of someone who was in perfect control. She knew he had no idea what to say to her.

He stared at her. The vague question why he had not send word to fetch her from the convent sooner must have been tingling somewhere in his mind.

He greeted her in a formal manner. She returned his greetings coldly. She yearned to be his loving daughter, but could not. He had betrayed her.

She entered Camelot castle.

Her father told her about the transition from one king to the next which had taken place during her years of absence.

"You have kept your position. The Duke, highest of all lords," She flattered him. "second in command to the king. As you have always been."

"Yes." He genuinely smiled now. "I have been most fortunate."

His hand enveloped hers. He was a bit unsure in her presence, which she rather liked.

She had lost track of where the princes had gone. And her sword.

Her father introduced her to all persons they passed, all high born persons.

Many names and titles were thrown at her in a most respective manner. Syrinx could not remember all of them and soon figured that was not necessary. She would call every man sir or lord.

And the ladies lady. Simple as that. Not many women were no around.

They were busy with some of those feminine activities her father had wanted her to learn at some point. She was glad Mab had not bothered about such things. She would pick up the manners required at court soon enough. They couldn't be that difficult.

"Lord…"

Ah another lord.

"A pleasure, sir."

He smiled. The smile brightened what had been a sullen face.

Syrinx amused herself by guessing the stranger's age while the two men held a small conversation.

The unknown lord saw her mind wander and decided to prevent that.

He turned back to her. "High counselor." He introduced himself.

"And my trusted friend for many a year." Her father added.

Now Syrinx did look at this man, branded in her mind as just one of many lords.

She had been supposed to marry her father's best friend. Some high lord. Advisor. Him?

"Will you escort my daughter to the banquet? I have some business to discuss with the princes. I will return shortly."

Syrinx watched attentively as her father left. He no doubt wanted to get the sword back from the king's sons. The mythical sword which had, secretly, been in his possession for decades.

She wanted nothing more than to follow him. Instead she offered her arm to the man next to her.

You are the man father wishes me to marry. She tried to speak but could not bring herself to utter the words.

/

It had been declared by king Arthur that the king should sit with his men in a chair equal to theirs. Soon after his death this quaint law was abolished.

Syrinx entered the throne room.

A massive throne stood in this large entrance hall.

They walked down the stairs. Syrinx saw open doors in front of them which lead to the most important part of the castle.

Not able to restrain herself, she rushed forward, through the doors, in a very unladylike fashion.

A huge table. It filled most of the space inside the room.

A huge, round table.

This was where the knights had gathered!

The Lord laughed in a distant, fatherly manner and entered the room as well.

"No, no, this is not the Round Table." He said, guessing the reason for her excited and inarticulate squeals.

"It is large, it is round and has been here for many years." He tapped the cold surface of the stone table. Her eyes widened, seeing that it was permitted to touch this monument. "But it is not the same table the knights of old, the knights of king Arthur sat around. Thát round table was destroyed."

"What? How?"

"It was fragile, wooden." He looked slightly confused. "Lightning shattered it to bits."

Lightning? Syrinx had met fairies in the flesh. Yet lightning in the middle of a castle she found hard to believe.

The unmistakable sound of approaching men made Syrinx turn her head back to the bright throne room.

It were the royal brothers, talking, laughing, walking towards her.

Her gaze wandered away from them.

She saw Queen Mab. She was lazily leaning against the throne.

"Look," Mab said, "what striking young men I have to offer you."

Syrinx smiled at her.

Lord Whatshisname followed her gaze to the empty throne, and looked questioning at her. "There is nothing there." his eyes told her.

Not yet, she thought.

"And this Lord standing next to me, who exactly is he?" Syrinx pretended to ask Mab.

The queen cunningly eyed her up. "Why, he is the old stick your father intends you to marry."

That was how she had envisioned her return to the human world. With queen Mab by her side.

She directed her smile to the princes.

They had the exact same look in their eyes. The way they watched her, with interest, it made her feel scared and strong at the same time.

She looked at them in turn. "Edward and Elgar?"

"Yes, my lady, but the other way around."

Her cheeks briefly flushed.

The eldest, Edward, calmly took her hand. A graceful gesture, she could see that he had practiced on many ladies of noble birth.

A whole company followed the princes into the room. About thirty men sat down at the table. A few women joined as well. Others were standing up, like the servants. Those sitting were clearly the richest dressed persons.

Soon the room was filled by loud voices.

"You will have to excuse the king for his absence," Edward said as he guided her to a seat at the table. "he is not well." Syrinx nodded.

Edward had taken place next to her.

The Lord sat down at her left side. Leaving a vacant seat between them for her father.

"If I seem absent this evening, that is the cause." Edward continued.

She nodded a second time, suppressing a tiny smile.

"One person less talking would be pleasant. Is it always this crowded?"

"Yes, of course." He paused as the servants presented their meal. "The convent must have been… quieter."

"Yes."

"Lonely?"

She nodded once more. "Sometimes.

Are you the Christian brother?"

He looked confused and a bit amused as well. He muttered half a reply.

"Most people keep us apart by appearance." Elgar sauntered between their seats and poured them all some more wine.

The Lord cast him an annoyed look.

"In that case I am not like most people." Syrinx smilingly looked away from the brothers.

"Apparently not." The Christian prince smiled back.

Syrinx looked at the meal in front of her. She had reached that point of hunger where not a trace of craving for food was left.

She took a few bites in the hope that would reawaken her appetite. It didn't.

She was too anxious. She put down her knife and took to observing the other persons around the table instead.

The royal brothers in particular.

Mab wanted these two to confront each other.

Syrinx soon discovered that this would not be a hard assignment. They disagreed on every single subject. It was quite amusing.

"Ealdor!" She heard someone say, her father's name.

He had entered the crowded room.

Syrinx jumped up, receiving many disapproving glances and walked towards him. He was carrying the sword ceremoniously.

It was bright and strong. It looked like new. The shiny blade hungry for action.

Syrinx knew Mab had laced it with her magic.

"May I, present to you a sword of legend?" he declared and grinned. "No it is not Excalibur."

Her father placed the sword in the middle of the table.

"This is the sword Krisler, truly. There is no doubt about it."

"Dear God." some muttered.

"What does that mean?" asked lord Imor. Ha! A name she had remembered.

She looked at her father's solemn face. "Can I hold it, father?"

"A woman with a sword?" A lord barked with laughter.

"Sit down, Syrinx." her father said. "The sword now belongs to the king."

That was final.

"In older times women wielded weapons." she muttered, loud enough for the princes to hear, and sat down.

"In barbaric times." Elgar replied.

Syrinx knew she should keep quiet now. She didn't. "In certain Celtic tribes it was the mother, not the father, who taught their sons how to fi…"

"Women have other uses. They are not suitable for battle." Edward said.

"Finally!" Elgar cried out. "We agree on something.

Whoever put such lies in your gullible little head?" Elgar teased her with a cruel smile.

With this one look she knew, he did not like her.

He was a kind person, pleasant and hospitable towards her. But he did not like her.

The Lord, Syrinx kept forgetting his-name, cleared his throat as he reached for the veal. "It is charming to hear a girl take an interest in the pastime of men. If I remember correctly, prince Edward, I once saw one of your sweethearts dressed in battle gear."

Syrinx saw Elgar suppress a venomous look. It had been one of his girls.

"It is delightful to watch a girl in battle gear." Edward, laughed. "It is, but it is nothing more than a fantasy. Dressing her up is fun,"

"followed by undressing which is better." Elgar commented.

"but I would not dream of having women in battle."

Syrinx had stopped listening to the conversation around her.

She noticed that everyone was busy murmuring. Her father was waiting patiently until the wave of amazement was over.

"I also want to present my daughter, the lady Syrinx." Now she was permitted to stand up next to her father, under a round of applause.

"The sword and the girl that vanished together," He whispered to her. "have returned on the same day. It is a miracle!"

Elgar, the youngest prince, snorted.

"It's not a miracle, it's destiny." Syrinx said, while she smiled at her father. She knew it was improper to speak without permission.

But she had decided to put up a show.

Why else would Mab have staged this simultaneous return, if now to lure the court into believing the tales of old. Arthurian times ghosted through everyone's mind. The lurking danger and adventure, because something new had come to Camelot. A weapon, a maiden.

It was destiny. If destiny's name were Mab.

/

"What does this mean?" Yet another noble man.

"The time of heroes has returned."

"I do not believe in fairy tales, girl!" A man with an impressive beard man exclaimed.

"What is known about this sword?"

"It slayed the dragon Rwim." Her father replied.

"Dragons! Ha. More nonsense." The bearded man again.

"What does it do?" A knight bellowed.

Mumbling arose. Some of them recalled scraps of legend about the sword.

"Magic." They hissed.

"It is a pagan sword!"

"It should be destroyed."

"But the glorious days of Arthur!"

No one was eating anymore. Arguing ruled.

"This is outrageous."

"God favoured the sword Excalibur, was that not pagan as well?"

"Blasphemy," her hated lord again. "I should have your head for this!"

"My lords!" Her father silenced most of them.

"Camelot has been blessed by Krisler's return! It is our task, our responsibility to decide how to use it.

Let us first speak of the swords retrieval, before we judge its nature."

The two brothers rose from their seats. Her father took a step back. Syrinx remained standing, next to the princes, because she rather liked that.

She also liked how she was part of the 'quiet side' of the table. Her father, the princes and the high counsellor had not joined the mayhem.

They were wise enough to show self restraint. Or she was simply fortunate to be sitting amongst those with the most authority.

"I found the sword." Elgar began.

"We both did."

"Where?" Lord Imor asked. He would not give them the chance to tell their story at length, in the epic style they preferred.

The poor princes, Syrinx thought, they would soon get the opportunity to become the champions they longed to be. She was sure of that.

"It was smitten in solid rock." Edward continued. "Near the mountain, in the same stone which once held Excalibur. While but a week ago we rode past the same mountain and there was no sword there."

"Do we know how this sword came to be at that location?" The high counsellor asked.

"No." Syrinx' father answered.

Elgar replied: "We have asked in the nearby villages, no one knew when it was placed there or by whom."

"The wizard, Merlin?" someone proposed.

Syrinx mind screamed. Merlin.

She remembered the stories in which Arthur and his knights had received help from a wizard.

Surely Mab's Merlin wasn't thát Merlin. King Arthur's Merlin.

Queen Mab had told Syrinx all she wanted to know about the knights. Mab had been around during Arthur's reign. Which meant she had known this wizard.

Therefore, Arthur's wizard was still alive and Mab knew where he lived. He was a legend, a wizard, a real wizard. He could aid them to return magic to the land. But queen Mab had not wanted to involve him in her plans.

"No," she said. "the fairy queen placed it there."

"The what?"

"The fairy…"

"Nonsense!" Syrinx began to dislike the bearded man with a passion.

She tried not to raise her voice as she spoke. "It is a magical sword, we have agreed on that, haven't we? Then why couldn't she be responsible?"

"There are no..."

A man laughed through his words.

"Why would a mythical creature give a sword to a human?"

"Not any human. To princes. And it has happened before. The sword was placed there for a true hero to find." Syrinx realised she was not the best public speaker. Certainly not in a Christian court.

"And that is me.. us?" Elgar asked more seriously than Syrinx had expected of an arrogant Saxon.

Syrinx did not dare answer, she shrugged.

Whether they believed her or not, everyone had heard her words and the court had become silent.

All of the court's eyes were fixed on the naked sword on the round table. No one could deny that it looked magical. As if forged out of storm and lightning.

"Is it evil?" A brave voice asked.

That was the question they all wanted an answer to. Was the pagan sword cleansed from evil and returned to them by God? Or given by the devil?

The second son inconspicuously shoved her aside, to take sword.

"Pardon, Lady of the Sword."

And just like that she was given a title.

"We pulled it out." Elgar continued. "We tried, in turns. Eventually it loosened and I pulled it free." His smugness increasing by the second. Edward forced himself to smile.

Most of the lords looked insecure during the short silence which followed.

The youngest son had pulled the sword from the stone. Had higher powers appointed him as the next king?

They were all hoping if no one vocalized this suspicion, there would be no danger of it being true.

Elgar smiled charmingly at Syrinx and she felt Edward's hand resting on her back. She found herself standing between them.

"In the name of our father, the king, we would like to officially welcome you at this court." Edward said. "You have been returned to us the same day as the legendary sword of Krisler. Hence you will be known as the Lady of the Sword, as my brother named you. We understand that you must be feeling tired, so you will be happy to know that your room is being prepared. You have permission to retire as soon as you have finished your meal."

A squire was summoned to carry the sword away.

Elgar stepped away from her side, back to his seat.

She was free to sit down again and so were the others.

She knew what it must have looked like, a young girl flirting with the heirs to the throne.

Indeed, her father did not look happy. Her standing this close to royalty was not allowed. But Mab would want her to take an interest in her champion. Yet Syrinx was supposed to let Lord In-desperate-need-of-a-name-now court her.

How was she ever going to pull this off?

"You should not speak of horrifying fantasies like fairies here." Her father warned her, before he sat down as well and the meal carried on.

"Such stories are all good fun at home, but not in the centre of Camelot. Dangers like that were once real here. As you should know."

Yes, she did know.

/

The rest of the night was filled with casual talking. Syrinx learned that court was a pleasant yet busy place to be. The chivalric manners she had long since dreamed about, had clearly been a fairy tale. The meal mainly left her wondering what their festivities were like. She was looking forward to those. Though they might prove too much for her to handle.

She tried not to think of the peace and quiet she had known in the Land of Magic.

Syrinx was exhausted when she went to her chambers. She crawled into bed and knelt down in prayer.

The bed covers were coarse and itchy compared to her bed in Faerie. Truly, there were no grounds for comparison.

"I wish you were here, my queen." she whispered.

Syrinx entertained herself by pretending that Mab already was there. She was certain that this would help hasten Mab's arrival.

She snuggled under the blankets.

And focused on purple memories.

It was cold in her room. Unlike the chilliness in Mab's cave where magic kept real cold at bay. There cold had been comfort.

She thought of how some crystals still glowed after Mab had used them.

She was the Lady of the Sword. She was not even allowed to touch the damn sword.

Syrinx blocked out that thought.

She used to gather the crystal shards, those who weren't too sharp, in a piece of cloth and put them in her bed to keep her warm. They would slowly loose their warmth and some would even dissolve when they had lost all magic.

She longed to warm her fingers at such crystals again.

She turned three more times over.

Then she leapt out of bed.

/

To be continued…


	10. The Fountain

The next time you see it, you will have to use it.

That is what Mab had said to her. Syrinx had seen the sword, and nothing had happened.

She stalked the dimly lit castle corridors.

It reminded her of when she and Mab had stolen the sword from her parental home. When Mab had stolen her.

As then, she had no plan. It did not worry her.

She was taking Mab's word for it that she would be alright.

Her father had been so kind to tell her during dinner where Krisler was kept. Syrinx moved as silently as possible. She did not want the guards to hear her. She wondered if she would be brave enough to attack them, if necessary.

/

There were no guards present. The door was left open.

She hesitated to go inside. When she did, she found that there was no one there. Her sword wasn't there either.

She ran back outside the room. A haunting feeling crept over her.

Syrinx made her way downstairs. She had no idea what this meant. Should she have taken the sword sooner?

She pushed a side door open. Sleep was not an option anymore.

It was cold outside, but not in a completely unpleasant way. An evening walk in this refreshing twilight might be just what she needed to find some inner peace.

She sneaked out onto the court yard. The evening smelled of wet rocks.

She walked back part of the way they had followed on horseback.

Syrinx strolled through the old city gate and entered the forest. She wondered how far she would get before she got tired of walking.

The water whispered to her as she walked past the fountain. She had noticed its presence on the way to the castle.

It was impossible not to notice.

The fountain was ornamented by huge sculptures of a knight and his lady.

The marble figure of the knight knelt in front of his stone lady for all eternity. Her arm stretched out, ordering him to go on a quest, promising him her love if he were successful. Which he undoubtedly would be.

In the dark of evening fall the white statue of the lady bore an uncanny resemblance to queen Mab.

Moonlight glistened on her skin.

Syrinx paced around the statue for a time, admiring its craftsmanship and the cold beauty of the lady.

She was about to leave the site and head back for the castle, when she heard the soft clanging of steel against wood.

She saw the shadow of a man who was training with a sword. A young man, one of the princes, judging from his posture.

Syrinx took a deep breath. Her body tensed. Well, she thought to herself, this would be as good a time as any to… stopfumblingwithyourhair. She breathed out. She was going to approach him and talk.

She lowered her hands. She could not believe she was this nervous to talk to royalty, human royalty.

/

"Are the trees putting up much of a fight?" Syrinx stepped into the pale moonlight.

His movements ceased. He lowered his arms.

The prince marched towards her. He bowed.

"My Lady Syrinx."

She grinned. It was Elgar, second son to the king and unknown to him, champion of the Old Ways.

"My lord."

Courteous greetings were exchanged. As before, the courtliness did not feel like she had imagined it to be. The words were hollow, a façade for commonness.

Now the ceremonial exchange of pleasantries could begin.

"What brings you here? So late at night."

Syrinx shuffled forest leaves with her feet as she walked to the statues with him. She did not feel like talking.

She fixed her eyes at the lady.

"Who is she?"

"A chivalric a statue from Arthur's reign." The prince said.

Syrinx smiled. "In this darkness her gown looks black."

Elgar watched her as she admired the fountain.

"You should go to your room before it gets darker and you don't find your way back."

The water whispered to her. She could not make out any words, but it sounded like a lullaby.

"The fountain, prince" she reminded him with a smile", what are these statues? I would like to know."

He moved his head sideways as if to say howcouldanyonenotrecognizethestatues. "You know what this forest is called?"

She shook her head.

"The forest of Broceliande, this is its fountain.

It is famous. The fountain and its Lady feature in of the best known tales of Camelot."

"I don't know it." Syrinx replied lightheartedly.

"She is the Lady of the Fountain, patroness of Camelot. When the old storyteller used to come to court he often told stories about her."

"Does she have a name?"

"No. I don't think so."

"And she protects the city?"

"Forever."

"She had a champion?"

"Several, I suspect.

When darkness falls over Camelot her champion comes to protect us from evil."

"What kind of evil?"

He shrugged, not caring much for these tales. "Evil in general."

"Do you believe this legend?"

"Everyone does. Her and her knight, it never feels as if they are not here."

"Because this fountain is a constant reminder." Syrinx said with a wry smile. Would a simple statue and story save Mab from being forgotten?

"It is like waiting for a friend. You know he will return, in our time of need." He laughed. "A friend who happens to be the best knight there ever was."

"The Knight of the Fountain. Sir Iwain! That was his title."

"So you have heard of these stories. He was the Lady's champion, long ago."

Syrinx smirked.

The prince turned to her. He was grinning. "You comment on every sentence I say."

"No, I am merely paying attention."

She smiled back and remained silent.

In the end he gave in and started talking again.

The whispers of the fountain prevented her from hearing everything he said. She felt the tiredness return and almost lost interest in their conversation. Everything was fading. The water wanted her to give up.

"Let us walk further, the water is making too much noise."

Syrinx nodded.

"Have I permission, Lady of the Sword," he jested "to wield this fine blade?" She had known all along that he was practicing with her sword. It attracted him. He already embraced the destiny Mab had set out for him.

"You have. But if you should prove an unworthy champion I will have to take it back and give it to some other."

He looked at her feigning insult.

"Yes," she laughed. "You can be the gallant knight who wields the sword of Krisler. I, the Lady, have spoken."

He did reply by humorously asking her for a quest. She was a bit disappointed.

"They say it holds old magic." he said caressing the blade.

"You don't believe that?"

"It is sufficient if others do. For legends, for fame."

"It could be cursed," she teased cheekily. Then changed her tone of voice. ", no one knows. There are too many stories, too few, too muddled."

"It needs new stories." He replied. She couldn't agree more.

"You can provide those." she hinted.

He swung the sword nonchalantly. "It is good steel."

"It could make you king. "

He laughed. "You mistake this blade for Excalibur. Only Excalibur can appoint a ruler."

"Most people mistake it for Excalibur. Getting this sword does not make you king. But it can decide kings. It has done so before. The people remember that." Her father had been careful not to mention this at court. It could erupt a fight for the throne.

He shook his head. "I do not want the crown. Prophetic legends or not."

She stared at him, dumbstruck.

"Why not?" She wanted to shout. She bit her tongue.

"My brother will be a good king."

"And you wouldn't?"

"You may only judge that once you get to know me."

She bit down on her lip to keep herself from speaking. Mab's champion wanted her to get to know him. That was a very good start.

She looked back at the Lady of the Fountain.

"May I carry the sword?"

He handed it over.

Her face lit up. He saw her sense of adventure.

"Are you that fond of it?" He laughed.

"Lady of the sword, can you wield a sword?

Syrinx swiftly adapted a fighting pose. "I can wield this one." She swung Krisler.

"Your hand knows the sword." He stated. "How?"

A legendary sword, lost for decades, yes, of course it was familiar to her touch. "A secret.

Do you want to fight me?"

"You? Shivering in your night gown?" He looked down. "And on your bare feet!"

Syrinx haughtily lifted her chin. "I am old enough to decide for myself when I want to get a cold."

"That you are, girl.

We can practice your fighting skills some other time."

"Other time?" She was surprised.

"Tomorrow by the fountain, around twilight. I'll bring you a sword."

She grinned.

"Weren't you convinced women shouldn't fight? It is unbecoming for a lady."

"At court one must know when to say one thing and do another. You still have to learn the ways of the court. Rule one: know when to speak the truth and when not to."

"Will you teach me?"

"There is nothing more to teach. That is the only rule. Always keep it in mind. Your life depends on it. Camelot is a complicated place."

"Cheerful advice.

What else do you do? Apart from sword play and general prince-er-y…ness?"

"Nothing that would concern a young girl. I should use the term fair maiden, if we intent to play the masquerade of chivalry."

"Yes you should." Syrinx snapped.

She did not like this teasing.

"How did you know it was me? In the forest, you recognized me."

"We had heard word to expect you."

"By whom?"

He did not answer.

Syrinx sneered at his silence.

Queen Mab, no question of it, the same voice that had told him to come here to practice tonight.

He had been hunting outside of Camelot earlier this day. Mab must have shown him to the sword then and given instructions. He wasn't even aware of it.

She wished she could feel proud of her queen for this excellent magic show, but she only felt contempt for the human who let himself be fooled.

Elgar bade her goodnight at the gate.

She made her way back to her room unaccompanied. There was hope yet that Mab's champion fancied her and that she would grow to care for him as Mab expected her to.

Syrinx had enjoyed the conversation, but she did not think about the prince in that way. Not yet.

/

Several nights had gone by since her late encounter with the youngest prince.

Her betrothal had been announced at the Round Table. Her nerves blocked out the Lord's name, again. The situation would have been easier to handle had she been warned. Or comforted afterwards.

She had been able to buy herself some time by stutteringly requesting the presence of her own priest at the wedding. It would take at least four weeks for the messenger to get to her father's castle and back again with the priest.

She barely knew the man her father wanted her to marry. Apart from some polite words during dinner the Lord did not speak to her, nor she to him. He had taken her on the occasional horsehide through Camelot and the forest, accompanied by a dozen other lords. It would not be proper to get to know each other better before the wedding. Though it would put her mind at ease.

The king's trusted counselor wished to marry her, she should be content with that and the assurance that he was a good man. She had accepted his proposal, meaning her father had.

Her father, to her surprise, had made attempts of reassuring her. He had told her that though the Lord appeared a man his age, he was barely seven years older than the youthful princes. Her father talked to her, wanted to get reacquainted with his dearest possession. Syrinx had seen more of him these lasts six days than the previous six years.

She had always loved and respected her father, only now she began to understand him. He was not as stern as she had believed him to be. She was not afraid to speak her mind to him. Though he often warned her to choose her words more carefully in the presence of others. The reason she could speak unafraid to a man of her father's status now, was because she knew someone of greater importance. A special card to keep behind her back which she could play should her father fail her expectations.

Like her father, Mab had taken her for granted. But she had been there while he had not. She had cared in a way, in her way, she had cared when he had not.

A tear escaped Syrinx eyelashes, she did not know whether that was true anymore.

She was sitting on the stone floor of her chamber. Waiting, praying, her eyes shut.

The Land of Magic was laying just in reach inside her mind. She could see every detail of her purple cave chamber, and when she would open the door she could run through to tunnels to Mab's library. And they would talk and laugh with old legends and kings as they used to. Searching books and scrolls for anything useful.

She imaged she would see the lake and the entrance to Faerie through the window of her castle chamber. To her daily disappointment, all she could see was the forest of Camelot and its fountain hidden in the distance. A view which had excited her for no longer than a day.

She had not received word from Mab in any form. Even Frik could not be missed to sent her a message. Syrinx felt deserted. She hoped her work here was not in vain.

Her believe in her stay at the faerie realm kept her going. That memory was more real to her than the very room she was in.

/

She waved her hand over the tip of a candle.

Setting light to a candle was one of the basics of hand magic. One of the only bits of magic she had truly mastered.

In the human world even this talent had left her. No more magic. Not a sparkle of magic in Camelot.

Syrinx kept her herbs, candles, knifes and ever growing stone collection in a trunk. Under her new dresses.

She was given many clothes, none as beautiful as the ones her queen had given to her. But they were still in Faerie. Except for one she had worn on her arrival. Her otherworldly dresses.

The ladies at court had taught her all about fashion and jewelry.

She had been promised her own ladies in waiting once she was married.

Despite the splendour and richness of Camelot, Syrinx could not get used to the humanness of it all.

Cold had no comforting quality here, food did not taste right, colours seemed dull, everything had small imperfections which she would not have noticed had she not seen Mab's world.

Her fingers traced the chalk drawings on her floor. Triple spirals. Pagan symbols.

They believed in Christianity here. Every day she heard the exclamations made by the noble lords and ladies: Dear God! Jesus Christ. In the name of…

Christians. It was part of her task to make them see the error of their ways. She did not know how. Unless she could drag the Fairy Queen in front of their eyes. Make Mab appear in Camelot, her quest.

How could she make them worship her without being accused of heresy, branded a pagan, put to death, burned by the church?

Syrinx shivered. The future looked grim.

Queen Mab believed she could do this. All would look better the next morning. She hoped it would.

The stories of king Arthur were set in paganism and christianity. Syrinx hoped these believes could coexist in more modern times.

/

Change was coming to Camelot. The king lay on his deathbed. It was certain he would not survive the night.

The whole of Camelot was already mourning him.

Syrinx' meetings with Mab's champion continued. Two evenings a week he taught her more about swordplay.

The fountain kept whispering to her. The water was offering a way out, an escape to Mab's plans. She had first heard water speak in the Land of Magic and now she could not remember how to unhear its voice.

Syrinx did not mention this in her prayers. It was her problem. She would find a solution or bear it till the end.

The water was patient, she would wait.

/

I need more MAAAB! *dry cough*

Please review


	11. One Victory

Happy New Year, dear readers!

Lightning struck through the underground realm.

Mab was laughing. Frik jumped up from his work.

Syrinx had successfully entered Camelot. There could be no other reason for this little celebration.

Frik spent most of his time locked up in the dungeons. This moment was no exception. As always he was copying Syrinx' book. Mab took the finished copies away and, he suspected, distributed them in the world of man.

Physically he was several tunnels and floors removed from that vengeful queen, yet he was never safe from her. Her mood dictated the atmosphere of her realm. Every and any moment she could burst into the room to check up on him.

He thought he worked under stress before. It had been nothing compared to this.

In those times Queen Mab had looked down on him, occasionally loathed him. Now she hated him.

"You should feel honoured," Mab had said in one of her sparse good moods. "I don't often waste such a precious emotion on a gnome."

Frik hadn't been able to come up with a witty reply. Sleep banged in his head. Mab made sure he got sufficient sleep to keep working and not enough to come up with any cunning plans. Need for sleep was one of many discomforts accompanying mortal life.

His arms and hands were in constant pain. He dared not take a long rest from his writing. Mab might make one of his arms fall off if he did not work fast enough. That might happen anyway. He could write with both hands. Some hundred years ago it had seemed like a fun idea to teach himself this. He was regretting it now. If only he still had magic, to numb his pain and keep himself amused during his labour. Some music would be welcome, a change of appearance as well. This old body could not take much more.

He missed the thrill of creating a new look.

He missed running simple errands. Those small amounts of time he could get away from Queen Mab and her temper.

A small speck of magic to comfort and heal himself, please.

But Queen Mab did not care much if he would survive his imprisonment and her tantrums.

She would threaten him with a smile. It scared him. She enjoyed threatening him. On the inside she was not smiling.

She felt miserable and he had to pay for that. His suffering was her comfort. Deny it as she might she needed company. He would not pity her. A small part of him occasionally reminded him that that the anger directed at him was a reflection of her own wretchedness. He wisely choose to ignore this voice because it might get him killed.

His only concern was staying alive. She kept him around to copy books, to have some distraction and feel that she had power over someone. He feared the day the queen would have no more need of his copies. When the only thing keeping him from death would be Mab's tolerance of his presence. He feared that the day his usefulness expired had already passed. She simply had not told him yet.

That overconfident bitch.

The faint believe running through the human land was barely enough to sustain her powers. She needed a true believer close to her.

Her existence was linked to Syrinx, as strongly as it had once been to Merlin and Mordred.

Queen Mab had acted hastily. Frik hoped her impatience would cost her many followers.

She had suddenly decided it was time for the girl to go. Frik knew she had not been ready to go.

Mab had pinned too much hope, power, too much of herself on the girl.

He might not be brave enough to anger her majesty further, he was sensible enough not to help her.

He would not be the one to point her mistakes out to her. No sir. Let her stew in her juices.

She deserved all misfortune coming to her. If she was suffering, he did not care. He was better than her. He would not take delight in another's misery. Though maybe, if he were at a safe distance.

Part of him hoped the queen would be foolish enough to sacrifice a little girl's faith for Camelot's. Surely Syrinx' loyalty was a price she would be willing to pay.

Queen Mab was painfully silent since the girl had left. Frik felt her silence ache in his bones.

She kept herself confined to her centre of power. The crystal room which he was forbidden to enter. She continuously watched the human world.

This was as good a time as any to be disobedient. He left the dungeons.

He still knew these tunnels like the back of his hand.

He grinned. He would not be there when she needed company again.

He strolled out of the palace. Sneaking was unnecessary. He was no longer dedicated servant Frik.

He would be a fool if he believed he could actually leave the cave. Mab would not want him outside her realm, to cause damage to her cause in the outside world.

The fresh air did him a world of good. This walk had not been a bad idea.

He followed the dried up canals. Queen Mab was using what little power she had to keep her sister out.

The Merlin-business had clearly made the feud between those two bigger. Frik walked up to where the water once flowed into Mab's cave. He overlooked the lake. In the end water destroys rock, he though merrily, water will destroy her, slowly. It will make her cave crumble down on top of her.

All Queen Mab did was wait. She had nothing else to do. It made her grumpy, impatient, furious. Because of the suspense she found herself incapable of plotting new plans. She needed to know how Syrinx was, how Camelot was.

She kept track of the girl's actions. She watched all happenings at court in her crystals. She would have preferred to personally guide the girl. But that was impossible.

When the stories about her would reach the court of Camelot, the Old Ways would bloom there. Syrinx' words and Frik's books would make sure of that. Queen Mab could feel peasant superstition strengthen in her favour. Many feared her, some worshipped her. Fear would grow and was destined to turn into worship.

The stories had reached the city walls. They got carried into Camelot like a plague by travellers and merchants.

Mab smiled to herself. Once Camelot had been taken, her ways would be promoted from the centre of Britain itself.

Everything was going exactly as she wished.

Soon the whole of Camelot would know her.

She would live.

She celebrated her victory.

Without that traitor Frik. Meeting his usual grumpiness was the last thing she wanted now.

He did not deserve the honour to see her happiness.

She would never forgive him. She was on her own now.

The magic beings in her temple were focused on getting through the day. They could not be bothered for festivities yet.

Queen Mab felt a small discomfort, a sting, which she eventually defined as a longing for Syrinx' enthusiasm.

Syrinx had never seen her queen this pleased. She had been too weak to be happy. It hurt Mab to admit that to herself. She never permitted herself to be weak. It was be a waste of time.

She silently caressed her crystals. A trace of a smile left on her lips.

A waste of time, like loneliness.

Queen Mab could not help the feeling that something was wrong.

This was not something she was used to. She walked, she had no reason to hurry, to Syrinx' old room.

Goddesses can't be lonely.

The girl had left the box on her nightstand.

Mab opened it and looked down on the fairies.

She cried out.

Corpses. Or were they fast asleep? Several limbs had turned to dust. She caressed them with her fingertips. The butterfly creatures would not come to life. A deathlike picture.

Syrinx' faith was not strong enough. No. Her fragile fairies had not sufficiently recovered to have their source of believe at such a distance.

Ghosts of the fairies who once lived here, disappearing once more. Queen Mab would not let them die.

She took the box with her. They would be safely kept. In her crystal room.

Queen Mab poured her own magic into them. Nothing happened.

Not the flutter of a wing, the twitch of a nose. Anything but this sad silence. She sat down, holding the box on her lap.

Nothing happened.

In the dust of her subjects one feeling remained: shame.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"She has brought this on herself." Frik said.

He kicked a rock in the water.

The Lady stared at him with empathic, empty eyes.

"I didn't expect you to come."

"You asked for my help. " she replied.

"And you always appear when someone asks you to?"

She solemnly nodded.

The gnome snorted. He doubted she would offer Queen Mab that courtesy. If the demon could ever swallow her pride and confront her sister again. Which seemed even unlikelier.

"Did you come here for a reason?"

Frik shrugged boyishly. The Lady watched him pace up and down the cave entrance.

"How goes my sister?"

"Difficult, very very difficult."

"She is hard on you?"

"Beyond imagining. I am held prisoner. And the girl…"

He sighed in a frustrated manner. He needed to talk to someone. He would have preferred it to be to someone else, but it seemed that this was the best he could get.

"Mab sent the girl to Camelot. She is tangled up in her majesty's plans."

He would have liked someone to be amused at his mockery and thus relieve this old gnome's bitterness. The Lady was no such person.

She waited silently, receptive to whatever he wished to say.

"I really wanted her gone. The mortal girl, out of here. Not on a mission. I warned her. I told her. Mortals they get blinded in Faerie. They don't know right from wrong anymore.

They shouldn't be here in the first place."

He ceased pacing and looked up at the Lady. She shone brightly, he had to look away again.

"The girl grew up without a mother. Then Queen Mab comes along! Takes advantage of that, of course. You should see the way that girl looks up to her. And Mab's just... enjoying the worship. She gives nothing about the girl. It's sickening.

She's just a child."

Like Morgan. He thought angrily.

No, there was no ground for comparison between the two of them.

"Now her life is most certainly in danger."

"She is stronger than you believe."

"But she will die, won't she? Because of Mab."

How he had missed talking to someone, someone who listened, someone else than himself.

"I can not tell the future, Frik."

"I do not want her to. Your sister does not deserve her loyalty."

"My sister is afraid."

"Afraid? "

"Had she gone to Camelot herself…"

"She would be dead. As she should be. "

"She would have faded into nothing. She is afraid, very afraid."

"I have never seen her like this before…" Frik stammered. "this… afraid…" He tasted the word in his mouth. It was uncommon to use it applied to Queen Mab. "She is different."

"She now knows what death is. She did not use to grasp the concept."

Frik smirked. "She still doesn't."

In a way, intentional or not, the Lady was helping him. He decided to take advantage of this.

"Did she cast the girl away out of fear as well?"

"Betrayal."

"That makes no sense."

"It does." She gave him a cryptic smile.

Frik sighed. The Lady was as useless as ever. She had no plan, no opinion.

"She fights death, she dies. You accept it, you live." He shook his weary head.

The Lady did not like this simplification. "It is different for us than for human kind. Dying."

He laughed nervously. "She still does not accept change. She is battling like before. You do, you …"

"I have changed, I feel it."

"I have seen it. When did you become cruel?"

"Can you call nature cruel?"

Frik nodded in understanding.

He looked over the white waters of the lake. Still the same water as when he entered Mab's service.

"Everything has changed." Frik muttered.

"Would you help your sister this time?"

"Would you want me to?"

"No." He kicked solid rock. He did not care if he hurt his foot.

"I would prefer her dead. I won't let her hurt any more people.

Can you help save the girl?"

"Let the maid decide her own destiny.

Her faith is strong. She will not listen to me. If she does not succeed, Mab will fade."

She spoke in a soft caring voice. He could not tell her emotions.

If she had any, he had always doubted if the Lady of the Lake possessed emotions. In that view she resembled her sister.

Frik congratulated himself on finding something in which the sisters were alike.

A suspicion rose in him. "What do you want, Lady?" She had always been a great one at avoiding situations.

"Do you want her dead?" She remained silent for a while.

"I do not like all this talk about dying."

She turned away.

He had offended her. He could bite himself in the ass for this, stupid gnome. He should have suck up to her more.

Frik hurried back into the depths of Queen Mab's cave.

Believe me, now it's getting fun.

Which team are you on? Let me know.

Yes, BellatrixLupin I am especially talking to you.


	12. The Old Ways

After many months the curse has lifted from this chapter.

I am happy to present to you: Mab in Camelot.

Thank you for reading :)

Syrinx was strolling through Camelot. None of the castle dwellers –as she called all people living in the castle- would have let her go out on her own. Luckily she had perfected her sneaking abilities in Faerie. She had snuck out of the castle in the early morning.

She was already dressed up, should she stay out longer than expected. She often forgot time even existed when she was wandering around. Something she blamed on her time spent in Faerie.

Syrinx decided she could afford herself another quick tour of the market. If she stayed much longer there would be a fair chance of getting caught.

This morning's walk had been satisfying. At the gate she had seen a storyteller, a fancy one. He wore many colours. Lush pagan symbols were drawn on his cloak. He spoke with much flair enticing children and adults alike to stay and listen. The storyteller was new in town. She doubted he would be allowed into the castle. He was too unchristian in both his storytelling and appearance. He mentioned fairies in his tale as splendorous dangerous creatures. Syrinx' heart ached for Faerie. She wanted to see it all its glory. She wanted to see Mab in all her glory. For Queen Mab was Faerie. And Syrinx would see them both rise from their ashes.

If people could only see her queen, they would never want for another God.

The Old Religion was not forgotten. She saw merchants in the town square trade jewellery, pots and pans with pagan symbols. It was the latest fashion. A lost religion now admired for its aesthetics. But some still believed, some.

Syrinx shielded her face from one of the castle's noblemen walking past her. The man was looking at the richness of the pagan patterns accompanied by his tailor.

Suddenly Syrinx knew. Pagan influences had become stronger. The latest fashion in the heart of Camelot. She ran to the castle.

Under her breath she muttered Mab's name. It gave her hope. It would strengthen her queen's existence. In no time Syrinx was back in the castle. She walked hastily through several corridors. She told herself she would not get lost. "Mab." She whispered, slightly panting. Not much later she practically ran through an empty corridor shouting her queen's name for all to hear.

"I am here." One step to the next Syrinx found herself in the throne room. The door to the Round Table opened by itself.

Syrinx ran forward. Queen Mab was standing on the table. Her gaze went around the room. She observed the room as if she was reminded of some unpleasant event. She shook it off her.

Her eyes fixed on the girl.

Syrinx hesitated. Her steps slowed down. She could not decide whether she should just go in or curtsy first. Thoughts of greeting faded when she approached the table.

"I am here." The words echoed through Syrinx' mind. Mab's voice familiar to her ears, yet a distant memory.

Syrinx stared up at her queen.

Mab's shadowy cloak was pulled around her. Mab held her in her arms.

Her queen had suddenly appeared in front of her and Syrinx had stepped forward to embrace her. The chronological order of events however was trivial. Her queen was holding her.

Mab graciously placed her hands on Syrinx' shoulders and tugged her away. "We have much to talk about."

Syrinx smiled back at her. Mab's stone encrusted garments shone before her eyes.

Mab leaned against the table. She enjoyed being this close to her warm source of worship, also known as Syrinx.

The queen was more relaxed than when they last met. Reaching Camelot was a milestone. The war for followers was not over yet, but for the first time she was certain her existence would last for at least several more months.

Syrinx lifted herself onto the table. She sat next to Mab and glanced to her from time to time. She was fully aware of her presence and still her eyes needed convincing.

"How about the princes?" The queen's fingers brushed the nape of Syrinx' neck almost in fondness.

"They are.. I am getting to know them better."

Queen Mab was staring at her. Syrinx felt obligated to continue talking. Reporting to Mab made her uncomfortable.

"The youngest, your er champion, we meet, at night,"

Mab smiled.

Syr stammered when she saw the smile "Not like .. that… we do … fight practice."

"Yes, I arranged that."

"He is teaching me the basics. I get to practice with a new sword." Syrinx continued with gleaming eyes. "I'll never match a knight, he is painfully honest about that, but …"

"Is he showing any interest in you?" Syrinx was sad to hear a slight annoyance in Mab's tone of voice. Apparently a goddess did not like to occupy herself with petty events.

"I … don't know. Not really, I think."

To Syrinx' regret the hand slid away.

"And his brother?"

Syrinx reminded herself to close her mouth.

She was a young girl who had grown up in the countryside, outside of society, surely that was a valid excuse for not knowing if a man fancied her. Or pretending not to know.

She wanted to hide behind her hands. Though for the life of her she could not think of a reason to feel like this.

The soft yet intense look did not leave Mab's face.

"I don't like.." Syrinx pulled herself together. If Mab wanted a report on the princes it did not have to be this personal. Syrinx would not even mention their names. That should put some distance between herself and her current situation. "I have been observing both of them. "

"Yes, and? "

"The champion of your choosing is the better fighter. But I believe his brother would make a better king. He has been trained for the job."

She saw Mab's eyes darken. A Christian king was out of the question of course.

"You are not for him."

"Oh I don't .." Syrinx said without the slightest hesitation.

Mab interrupted her again.

"This is for you."

The faerie queen reached into the folds of her dress. A book materialized in her hand.

Warm butterflies filled Syrinx' chest at the sight.

"It is complete."

Syrinx smiled widely. She grabbed her book. She possessed no words to express her happiness. She stroked the cover. Then quickly flipped through the pages. She was sitting on the Round Table next to her pagan goddess with her own fairy tale book. This moment held three things so miraculous that their existence would never fail to amaze Syrinx. The Round Table, her book, Queen Mab. She wanted to look up from her book, at Mab. However the delight of having her book back would not allow this just yet. She tried talking herself into watching Mab with the logical argument that the book's existence would not be jeopardized by her unfixing her eyes from it.

Mab, seeing that words would not be able to distract Syrinx' attention from her precious book, took the girl's face in her hand. "I want you to tell people these stories. More than you have already been doing. Tell them at court, the marketplace, to everyone.

You have to get them prepared for when a copy of your book arrives, within the week. Frik will deliver the copy. I will keep a close eye on him and so must you." She released her grip on the girl. "This shouldn't be too hard."

Syrinx nodded. She had not stopped smiling since she saw Mab in this room and did not want to either.

"They will be eager to listen. Humans adore tales of bravery, mystic wisdom and faded glory. Legends that hold promise of fresh adventures and magic. It excites them." A teasing smile appeared on Mab's lips. It made a small wrinkle in her nose and made her eyes shine. "Fantasies will make them take rash decisions. Those knights will act recklessly and stupid. Which will work out to our advantage."

"Queen Mab," Syrinx said confidently.

Reason had entered her mind. "We are at the centre of a Christian empire. A new, old religion will be opposed. Strongly opposed." The girl would rather not give any thought to the possible consequences of promoting so called barbaric ways.

Syrinx' remark assured Mab of her dedication to this new task. The fairy queen smiled.

"I will know who disagrees. If you feel unsafe point potential trouble makers out to me. They won't cause you any difficulty. "

"Magic? "

"Of course."

Syrinx was observing the glittery skin of Mab's hand. Right next to her on the table.

Her smile grew. She had missed magic.

"Christianity will be overthrown. Then you will take the throne."

Insecurity flashed over Syrinx' face. "I don't know if I would make a good queen. "

"Nonsense. You will be the greatest queen in centuries and completely loyal to the Old Ways. "

Syrinx could feel the full weight of Mab's gaze on her.

A ghastly fear crept into Syrinx' soul. "Mistress?"

"Yes?"

"Nothing."

"You have a question. "

"Yes."

"About men?"

"About.. "

Syrinx shook her head.

Her father was Christian. He would never change his believes. Not even for her. He was convinced that Christianity was the true religion, for him at least. When he made such an important decision he stuck to it.

In Queen Mab's Britain there would be no room for him in a high position. Mab would not take that risk. Syrinx could not think of a diplomatic solution to make him step down. Mab would have to hurt her father to fulfill her goal. Syrinx remembered all too well the image she had seen in the crystal. Her father begging for her life – because she worshipped the Old Ways? Or some graver crime which was still to come?- Whether Mab won or not Syrinx would loose her father. She was unwilling to bring such a sacrifice.

Mab stared for a while at the girl who was lost in thought. She plucked amber gems out of Syrinx' hair.

"What do you wish me to do?" Syrinx finally asked.

"It is of the essence that you keep the entire court on your side. Both princes, your father, your fiancé."

Queen Mab noticed Syrinx flinch at the last word.

"They are trusted men of the king and the most powerful men of the land."

Mab looked with contempt at the human made jewelry. They had lost their splendour in her hand.

"You know the role I want you to play. The innocent, unreachable maiden. La belle dame sans merci."

Mab's eyes did not leave Syrinx' silent face. She saw unhappiness in her eyes, doubt perhaps. For a moment she worried about the girl.

Syrinx had been looking at Mab's hand a moment ago. But it had not seemed physically present to her before Mab used it to put a comforting pressure on Syrinx' own hand.

"I will speed things up." Mab smiled, leaning towards her. Syrinx leaned back lulled to do so by the softness in Mab's voice. "Is there something you want from me?"

Syrinx blinked in confusion.

"You may ask anything of me. Once the throne is yours and my existence safe I will show you everything you ever wanted to know, to feel." She continued with gentle emphasis. "I owe you everything."

Mab observed the girl's reaction.

Her wide eyes, the way she was slowly sinking towards the tabletop. There was nothing, no one else in her mind but her queen. Mab enjoyed the empowerment this gave her.

"Everything?" Syrinx' voice sounded weak. She was proud that her voice did not fail completely or translated itself in a little shriek.

"Yes," Mab replied with a sly smile. "Everything."

She was sitting closer to Syrinx, as if she sought the comfort of a warm fire. The girl was lying on the table.

Queen Mab stroked the last jewel out of her hair.

"I will be eternally in your debt. Do you understand?"

How intimidated the young girl looked.

Syrinx could not bring herself to speak or nod.

"Is there something you want from me?" Her whispery voice sounded caring and patient.

"Save my father."

It was Mab's turn to be confused.

She sat back upright.

"Save your father?" she questioned, the words were hollow.

"I can't let him die or get hurt, in any way." Syrinx had to lift her head to keep looking at Mab. She lifted her upper body, putting her weight on her elbows.

"I … I know you do not approve of his faith and since he has much power I was concerned that you might.. be planning on disposing of him."

The queen shook her head.

"I would not do that." There was a laugh in her voice as hollow as her words. "He holds too much meaning to you."

"I knew that." Syrinx whispered. Mab smirked at this obvious lie. "I wanted to know for sure."

"You have my word."

"I had your word when you left me alone in the woods." Syrinx snapped. You promised me I'd be safe.

It's not safe here. I've been here long enough."

Mab raised herself from the table.

Syrinx anticipated a pathetic but much needed eruption of emotion next. She would shout angrily. "It's not safe here! It's not! It's not! You lied! This place was my dream. Now I don't even like it here and that's your fault!" Then she would go into a huff as if she never wanted to be taken to Faerie.

"You did nothing." she said calmly instead. "I'd already be married if I put my trust in nothing but your promise of safety."

Queen Mab gazed at her as some bird of prey. She did not have time for this.

"Trust works both ways. I knew you could do this." Mab said sweetly.

She moved towards the table silently, but it felt to Syrinx as if she stepped back.

"Please don't leave." Syrinx said, trusting her instinct.

She detected a fleeting smile. Mab was seemingly flattered by her desire for her to stay.

"I won't."

She was gone.

Syrinx stared for a while at the place where Mab had stood. Then she wistfully lay back down on cold stone table.

Queen Mab obviously liked refusing her things. Like when she had not wanted to accompany her through the woods.

Apparently doing the opposite from what you said was not considered lying amongst fae, providing you phrased it leaving out specifics. Or something like that. She was positive that Mab's vow of saving her father had been bounding. Mab and promises was a matter which needed closer inspection.

Syrinx no longer felt alone in Camelot. Her queen had arrived. Even if she did not stay.

She felt happy and relaxed.

A noise of movement made Syrinx look up in surprise.

The door opened. Noblemen and knights entered. There they saw her lying on their legendary Round Table.

"Lady Syrinx! What are you doing?"

Her father was not amongst them, that was a small relief. She jumped of the table with an apologetic smile. She wanted to grab her amber jewellery, but the neat pile of stones Mab had made was gone. She clasped her book to her and headed for her room.

She could not keep herself from skipping as she left the room.

"Lady Syrinx!" called a boy's voice. She turned around. It was Edward, the first son, the future king.

"I will escort you to your chambers." he said in a man's voice now.

This bemused the others.

"My lord, we can not begin without you."

"It will not take long."

"I am not allowed unescorted in the castle." Syrinx said as they climbed the stairs.

"You do remember."

"I most certainly do. All this protection is suffocating."

"It's safe."

This was their entire conversation.

They walked next to each other. Syrinx felt his royal presence and the silence exhaust her.

He occasionally glanced at the huge book she was carrying. His mind was trying to make sense of that, but he did not ask her about it.

Due to lack of pleasantries his shyness came close to amusing her. She would not have liked it much if he had talked more to her.

When they finally arrived in the corridor of her room, he paused a few feet before they reached the door. He turned to her, standing too close to her for comfort. She stood her ground though backing away seemed the most natural thing to do. This was after all the heir to the throne standing in front of her, the Christian, the one she shouldn't show interest in. He took her hand. The movement was smooth, but the expression on his face was clumsy. He kissed her hand.

"Goodbye, lady. Until supper."

She curtsied, bade him farewell and watched him walk back out of the corridor.

"Mab?" She whispered entering her room.

Unconsciously she wiped her prince-kissed hand on her skirt.

She had spoken Mab's name many times during her stay at Camelot. Now there was a chance of her queen answering her call.

A knowledge which made it impossible for her to stop smiling.

Syrinx curled up in bed. She usually took a nap after her secret early morning outings.

She was not tired now. She wished for dreams that would take her back to Faerie.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Visiting her adoring servant makes her shine as brightly as a human in love, Frik thought grumpily. How unfair the world was.

Mab paced the library.

She had spent all the magic she could perform in Camelot on one visit. She hated feeling this drained. Patience, Mab told herself. Things would change. Soon she could visit as often and for as long as she wanted.

Frik played marbles with the trinkets Mab had thrown on the floor when she arrived. He found it particularly hard to focus on the game. From the extensive glaring and soft hissing Mab did at the amber stones Frik could deduce that Mab's encounter with the girl had not gone exactly according to her wishes.

Frik decided he should better get out of the room. His old body could not take another beating.

Mab continued pacing. Syrinx' request was outrageous. The Queen of the Old Ways had promised to keep an obstinate Christian safe. She could not bring a disbeliever to Faerie or he would kill magic from the inside out. She would have to find another way.

Hadn't she nudged Syrinx in the right direction? For the smallest of moments Mab feared she had lost her touch.

But the girl was completely loyal and always would be. Mab knew her deepest wish. No one else could give her Faerie.

She sat down and calmly thought things over.

That was my "let's have nice talk to motivate the poor girl" chapter.

Again Mab seems to be a tad bitchier than I intend her to be. Then again she has to be or… nah spoilers.

If it is any comfort, dear reader, it was my goal to have her be nice(r).

But… let's be honest…

does the woman ever stop scheming?

Is everyone not liking the way she treats Syrinx? :)

Please tell me what you think of it.

Things are going to get unpleasant from here on. *wicked grin*


	13. False

False

It has been a while since I continued this story, I apologize for any inconsistencies that might occur because of this.

Disguised as the colourful storyteller of the local market place Frik entered the castle. Quite unlike the person he pretended to be he snuck in quietly hoping no one would notice him. However when the guard addressed him he played the part perfectly. There was no trace of grumpy old gnome left. He was all wide gestures and flair. This part of him he had forgotten about during his imprisonment in Mab's realm. It came back to life in this little game. The flickering of who he was disappeared as soon as he turned the next corner and again focused on the assignment ahead. He continued on his way and delivered a copy of Syrinx' book to the high counselor. The Round Table was filled with people. Frik smiled nervously. Syrinx had no trouble recognizing him. Because of Mab's good care his unease accompanied him everywhere, his rheumatism too. He got out as quickly as he could, conjuring up an unlikely story about a cold. Only Frik could make a cold sound this suspicious. Syrinx excused herself and followed the undercover gnome. He did not pay her any attention. He was probably under strict instructions of Mab not to speak a word to her. She saw him hurry past the castle wall and there he disappeared.

The trees stayed cold, the stones stayed cold, the human world was cold.

The slowness continued for hours, days, a week, it felt like several weeks. In any case it was too long for Syrinx.

But the book had finally arrived. It was filled with stories of wonder. Syrinx felt pride swell up every night at dinner when one of her stories was read out loud for the entire court to hear. Afterwards, when she was alone in her bed, she would feel sadly disappointed by them. Her stories lost their splendor here and now there were no longer hers. They were wasted.

She did not dare call on Mab too often, though she wished for her company every minute. Her clinginess was annoying herself. The Goddess came when it pleased her. That was how it should be. A Goddess makes her own decisions and others learn to live with them. Mab never stayed long either.

She told Syrinx stories, as she used to when they were still in the Land of Magic. The queen seemed to enjoy them more than she used to. Before it had been stories about what she had lost. Now she told of the glory that would return to her. Syrinx was proud to be part of Mab's rise to power.

As the stories were told at court Syrinx did her best to liven them up by sharing some details only Mab had known with the people sitting next to her. The stories circulated, but no one seemed to be as engrossed by the magical world as she was.

It were mostly children, playing in Camelot, who saw the true brilliance of the chivalric tales. She watched them with glee overhearing parents complain about their dangerous games.

The stories from the book became attributed to the present day court, as Mab had predicted. The legendary sword Krisler soon became included in the stories. Its fame would rival Excalibur's. Syrinx was certain of it. She saw the splendor return. Camelot would become everything she had ever dreamt of. At the same time she realized how false her dreams had been. It upset her. Queen Mab had never spoken highly of Syrinx' favourite tales and heroes. Now Syrinx saw why. Life at court was dull. Its heroics were fake. The quests she had so admired were dreamt up as entertainment. Please tell me something true, Syrinx would ask Mab. Mab shrugged slightly and indulged her young protégé.

Syrinx' father grew suspicious of his daughter and often warned her of pagan beliefs. "Do not get carried away by fashion, my girl. It is more dangerous than you think." he would tell her. He did not know much else to say to her, on any topic. Their daily conversations had worn thin.

She wanted to tell him what she knew but could not. He was Christian. He could not be anything else. The best she could hope for was that he would see what she liked about pagan stories. Even if he did not approve of her choice. She desperately wanted to change his believes. His life could depend on it.

Her father, the oh so important Duke, had worries of his own. The priest who was to wed his daughter had still not arrived. Syrinx told him not to worry about it, hiding an inner smile. Her father had not replied. He sent out a search party that very same day.

There were rumors of magical horrors in the woods. That was all they were, rumors. All magic went to Mab, to the land of magic, to stay alive and to keep her alive.

Syrinx did not care if the priest arrived or not. Whether Mab had stopped him, highwaymen had captured him or he was simply lost, she would still have to wed. Yet there were nights when she cried from happiness at the comfort this delay offered her.

She did not mention the priest to Mab, she did not mention her father again either.

From all human activities she looked most forward to sword practice. Yet every week she went to the prince reluctantly.

Syrinx was praying.

Her hand trembled as she drew the chalk lines on her bedroom floor. A circle, a good shape. Eternal and safe.

It wasn't expected of her, but she continued to practice the theoretical side of spells. She knew it would help her understand her mistress' world.

She drew a more complicated Celtic tribal, holding her breath. She looked up. Now she had to practice the words. Again she looked at her drawing. It was exceptionally good.

That moment the door of her room opened. Wide open. The person standing in the door opening was clearly not pleased with her work. "Father."

"What is the meaning of this?"

"Father…"

Worry etched stern lines of anger onto his face. He was never angry for any other reason than worry. He tossed one of her crystals on the floor, softly. It did not break.

He watched the symbols on her floor. "How many times do I have to tell you? Don't get carried away by this pagan hype. It are stories, Syrinx, entertainment. You should not believe them. You are smarter than this, I know you are. Those stories are dangerous. There is a reason why this religion was abolished. People wanted a new form of believe.

The old days were cruel. You know this, I have told you the history of our land."

She nodded halfheartedly. She couldn't bear the concern in his voice.

"Say something, Syrinx." She could not.

This was the way she had to go. The stories would make a new reality. A better one.

To her surprise he heard her- had she spoken after all?-, or read her thoughts from her face. In any case he had paid attention to her.

Firmly he stood there and he looked her up and down.

"You are a remarkably odd girl. You know that? I can't see how I never noticed." He was talking to himself. It made her feel safer. It was almost charming.

"You weren't around to."

"My only child,"

She felt like a little girl, begging for attention.

"Father, do you love me more than you love your God?"

"That is a different kind of love, dear."

"You have never seen Him. How can you love Him?"

"You have not seen him either. Does that harm your faith? Have I not raised you well?"

Lost for words she shook her head in reply to none of the questions.

"I have seen my God..ess."

"What are you trying to tell me?"

"I am not trying. I am telling you. Father," she looked at him." I want you to stay in this room.

Queen Mab, please show yourself." she whispered.

Lightning flashed.

Syrinx had to remind her scared self that this was what she wanted.

Mab to meet her father, so he could no longer doubt her existence. It was part of Syrinx' great "I want my father to be safe" plan.

A dark and slender form appeared behind his daughter. It stepped forward. He saw it was a woman.

"I don't usually do social calls." with a forgiving smile she added "For the good of my people and this kingdom, I will."

She approached. Syrinx' father, being a wise man, intuitively backed away.

Mab said more casual than she usually spoke: "If you don't listen to your daughter, you will soon die."

That same day Syrinx' father was exceptionally quiet during dinner at the Round Table. A tale was told from the book. A story about Queen Mab and her lovers. Syrinx wondered how she could have missed this story. She remembered the few stories in her book about Queen Mab, they had not often involved a lover. It had to be one Frik added recently. Yet, she knew it. She knew the story by heart and it was a shameful list of scandals. A blemish on her fairytale Goddess.

Mab was present in the room for a moment. She was only visible to Syrinx and her father. Syrinx did not pay attention to her, though she knew she was there, nor to the story. Her father noticed Syrinx was less attentive during this story. He did not like what this fae creature was doing to his daughter. He saw Mab leave in a flash.

She couldn't remember falling asleep. She sensed that Mab had left the castle. Fear gripped her heart. She did not remember her leaving. Had Queen Mab taken her father with her?!

There had been something familiar about the atmosphere of recent events, something in the room, the atmosphere of a .. dream. It had been a dream. Mab had not been here. This story had been fake, as well as the stories at court. And her father was…

Out. He had left with a searching party to look for the priest. He wouldn't leave without saying goodbye to her. Of course he would, that was exactly what he had done.

Syrinx believed that if she stayed in the warmth of her bed she could hold her romanticized dream of reality captive, but her mind woke up against her will.

There was the feast, tonight.

Her father didn't know of the feast. He wouldn't let her go on her own if he knew. But that he was gone it was her own decision. She wouldn't miss it for this world, at least not for the human world.

This called for her most beautiful attire. She jumped out of bed to unfold the dress Mab had given her. How she had longed to wear it again.


	14. Celebration

Happy birthday BellatrixLupin

I want to thank you all for following this story. I am not saying this because this is the last chapter, it isn't, but because I am touched by everyone who keeps reading this despite slow updates – this one should have been online weeks ago-. I know how frustrating sparse updates can be. I don't know how you put up with me.

I received a kind request for a longer chapter. First of all, I totally agree. Secondly, I always called this 'the long chapter' in my mind and I am very happy to have reached it.

Enjoy

PS Does one of you know how to edit in already posted chapters? I have reread a few pages and found typos which I would like to correct.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

After years of careful planning and preparing Syrinx Mab was thrilled to see the results unfold before her.

It had been but a small surprise that the wayward second born prince did not fancy her handmaiden. This could be easily rectified. She had arranged their weekly sword practice, but those moments failed to bring them together romantically. She had found the obstruction to her plan and would dispose of it forthwith. Her actions would clash with Merlin and Frik's quant ethics, which made the idea all the more appealing.

Prince Elgar was not the only one queen Mab had to work on. Her pretty human girl was being weakened by human life. She let mortals and their futile opinions hurt her. Not a wise decision. Syrinx was worth so much more than those others. She should know that by now. She was flower amongst weeds. It had been too soon to send Syrinx away. But Mab did not regret it. She would use Syrinx' sensibilities to her advantage to make prince Elgar take notice of her. The girl would have to hurt one more time. Once that was settled Syrinx had to become more aware of her own strength. Mab's future king and queen of Britain just needed a little push.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

We will have a celebration in honour of your Old Ways!

The eldest prince cried out to Syrinx when a particularly enchanting fairy tale was being read from the book. His unstable voice resounded around the Round Table. Everyone was silent for a moment. He was much more open than usual for he had had too much wine. No one blamed him for this. The king's condition was growing worse. It worried everyone. After his death all of their positions at court would become uncertain.

The crown prince's decision stood none the less. The noble men and women applauded. The feast he had announced in a drunken mood was to be held the following night.

This night.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Syrinx arrived in the throne room. It was her first formal feast at Camelot. It was one for 'her Mab fairy', and for herself.

She was fascinated by the whole event and planned to give her queen a full report on the worshipping that took place that night. She did not know what do expect exactly. The one thing she had expected was that she would be nervous, but she wasn't. There were pretty decorations. Yet the room did not resemble Faerie at all, it resembled a fancy banquet hall. Its function was to emphasize Camelot's own superiorness. There were banners and flowers everywhere. Pagan symbols were drawn randomly across the floor and walls. She had grown numb to human splendor. Yet she was polite and complimented the servants on the ornamentations. Her father had been right, the Old Religion was a fashion at court. It was an excuse to have a themed party. This shallowness did not matter. As long as Mab finally received the attention she deserved.

"Lady Syrinx, you are early." The eldest prince took her by the arm. He accompanied her to her seat. She felt flattered. She knew her cheeks flushed red, but then she had been looking forward to this night.

She looked around and spotted a small number of noblewomen standing together, gossiping. Not far off a larger number of men was talking seriously. They were doing exactly the same as the women, exchanging gossip, only in a different tone of voice and on different topics.

Syrinx' intended joined her side as soon as he noticed her. In her father's absence he took on the role of her guardian. He did so perfectly. He knew she, the young girl from the countryside, would be feeling lonely at this event. He sat next to her during the meal and talked about the food and wealth of the court. She did not mind, she let him talk.

She would be grateful for his company, had she cared.

Prince Edward handed her a cup of wine. She saw the lord next to her frown at his own neglect of her. How could he have forgotten to offer her a drink himself. The prince sat down on her other side and joined the conversation on Persia, the lord claimed to have been there for royal business, she doubted it. The prince was soon called away to welcome some lady of higher rank and her sister.

It should not have surprised Syrinx that the feast turned out to be a bit of a disappointment. The decorations were excellent so were the musicians, but in conversation and company the feast left much to be desired.

Apart from the Celtic inspired dresses that were admired and praised all night, the Old Ways were hardly mentioned. It was dangerous to talk about such a fascinating subject as magic, was it not?

Another item she noticed: there wasn't much food. On other nights banquets were held with all kinds of meat and fruit to taste. She had expected a celebration dinner to be the same only larger. Instead the table was filled with sweet pastries. She took one. The crust was slightly caramelized and she tasted a hint of cinnamon. A marzipan filling had melted into the dough while being baked. Marzipan, her betrothed informed her, was a precious eastern delicacy. She decided not to listen to his explanation of how expensive the food was this time or she would not dare eat another of these delicacies.

Mab would like the taste of this pastry. She had never seen the fairy eat. Yet that she was certain of. She wondered if one could simply walk up to the fairy queen and say: I know you like marzipan.

She liked the idea.

Secretly pleased Syrinx took one more marzipan pastry. Only one, for wine was the only beverage offered to wash away the sticky substance of the pastries. Wine made her mouth dry and it did things to people she would not have happen to herself.

She was pleasant company, or tried to be. She smiled and pulled her attention constantly back to the moment not to show how absent her mind truly was.

Syrinx did not partake in the dancing. It was not the kind of dancing she had expected from a decent court. Perhaps she was indeed too young to attend a feast like this- her father would not have let her attend- or she was simply right that this celebration was a boring affair.

She wondered what the evening would have looked like had she been enjoying herself. She was dancing, she was having fun, all courtiers noticed her, she was vulnerable. He would have approached her too, this old man sitting next to her, would have danced with her. It was probably for the best she was not enjoying herself. She sighed. In her mind she formulated an excuse to escape the room for a while and come back later, she would not abandon her duty to Mab. She hoped her expectations would be fulfilled then. She felt drowsy and could not hide it. Her table-companion tucked her under his arm. Suddenly she was alarmed.

"Lady Syrinx? Will you answer me?"

She looked right at Queen Mab. Her appearance was as always too much to take in. It rendered Syrinx speechless. Mab stared back from the other side of the table. A faint smile on her pale lips, she nodded silently. Syrinx opened her mouth. Not only speechless, she realized, completely bereft of senses. Why must fairies have such an effect on humans?

The lord was talking to her, his voice becoming worried because of her lack of response. She could not even hear him anymore.

In the blink of an eye Mab's gaze was gone, she had turned to face the prince.

Syrinx snapped out of it.

Her eyes were free again to look around the room. She still felt Mab's presence, although she had disappeared from her sight. Her queen was whispering words she did not want to hear into the prince's ear.

The lord's voice and all other noises in the room reached her ears again.

"We are strangers, perhaps we will still be strangers after years of marriage, so many people are."

"I could do with some fresh air." Syrinx said huskily.

"If that is what you want."

His hand slid off her thigh. Where it had been for most of the evening. He had not been aware of it himself. Or had been pretending not to be aware of it.

Syrinx took a last glance at where she knew Mab to be. The prince's eyes that had been on his cup, now drifted up to Syrinx. Slowly Mab's hand materialized resting on his shoulder. Her hand, that had caressed her, carrying that red ring, which had touched her hair, in this very room. Syrinx felt like such a small girl for being amazed at a memory this simple and ordinary.

She had to tear her eyes away from Mab if she wanted to get out of this room. "I only need a moment outside…" Mab's sweet smile hushed her. The queen slightly shook her head. Syrinx was not supposed to leave yet.

"Wait, no, I am sorry." She managed to look at the table. With Mab out of sight it was easier to divert her gaze back to the lord. "What did you say just now, before?"

"Your father warned me that your head is filled with fairy tales. He is right, you have been dreaming all evening.

Won't you share your stories with me?"

She opened her mouth hesitantly. He did not sound as if he wanted to talk about a pagan goddess.

"I asked, just now… if it had not been for your father, would you consider marrying me if I asked you to? I see that you are frightened." She suppressed an angry frown. "I won't hold it against you. You do not know me yet. Once we are married I will see every one of your desires fulfilled." He sounded what? Cocky? Scared of refusal? She had lost the ability to judge.

"If the waiting scares you," she heard him swallow. "we don't have to wait if you don't want to."

I don't want to, she thought, I don't want any of this. Her face remained blank.

"My lord," she said. Her voice forsook her. She would not look at him. She could feel Mab's gaze upon her or imagined it and was unwilling to check. Her voice returned to her. It was unsteady.

"I must retire." she whispered. If there was a kiss in Mab's script Syrinx would not keep herself to it.

As she rose from her seat prince Edward walked up to her. She felt forced to sit down again. He stood behind her chair.

"A toast .. to…"

"The fairy queen of magic." Syrinx promptly suggested.

"What is she called?"

"Mab."

"To Mab!"

Prince Edward raised his arm, all present enthusiastically followed his example. With the quantities of wine at their disposal tonight they would still be chanting her name by dawn.

This was Syrinx' time to run for it and disappear in the tumult.

She had missed it. She sat on her chair and endured the lighthearted conversations around her. The prince and the lord tried to win her attention, both failing.

"I fail to see your brother here." The lord advisor pointed out.

Prince Edward looked at Syrinx from the brim of his cup as if the question had come from her. In a way it had. The lord had guessed what she would want to know. "He'll be in town."

"Drinking again?" The lord suggested.

"He prefers the food, drink and company the town offers."

"A pity. There is too much wine at this feast."

"He is hardly ever in the castle." Syrinx contributed in a soft voice.

Prince Elgar was the one Mab wanted for her. How was he to fall in love with her if there was no sign of him? And how was she to know what went on in her mistress' fairy twisted mind?

Queen Mab looked rather bored on the other side of the table. She beckoned the heir to the throne back to her side. He obeyed her, not consciously aware of her presence. What would she whisper to him now? To drink more?

Syrinx waited for time to pass.

Her betrothed's hand cautiously crawled back onto her thigh. It slowly drew a circle on her. He did not speak, his face seriously looking elsewhere. His hand was a completely separate being. It slid between her thighs.

"No, not yet." She whispered to her lap and crossed her legs. "My mistress wouldn't... I couldn't cope with that yet."

"Mistress?" There was something in his eyes she couldn't quite place.

It made her wonder for a split second, a thought quick as lightning. It wasn't natural for women to… was it? Women can't, don't do that?

"It is against my beliefs." She left him guessing what religion she was momentarily following.

His other hand laid itself on the side of her face, it caressed her hair.

"You're a sweet girl." He wanted her to love him, she could hear it in his voice. His tender eyes looked into her frightened ones. She swallowed. He redrew his hand. He felt no more at ease than her.

He refilled both their cups. She would not touch it, he knew she would not. He lived on hope.

He took her hand and hushed his voice so no one else could hear. "Is your innocence an act?"

She silently shook her head.

"You can't be this naïve."

"I am a lady. This is called dignity." He did not let go of her hand. "It will be a great honour to marry you when the time arrives." Lies, how they burned in her mouth.

"Your patience and virtue grace you," he answered diplomatically.

She excused herself politely the first moment she saw fit. She had not expected herself to be this polite in distress. She should say her opinion outright. His hand would be no match for words. She hoped.

Syrinx thought she was too exhausted to smile, but as she walked away from him she felt her lips curl.

Prince Edward stood at the door. He was a fair sight to behold. He hovered around her.

"May I se se ex escort you?" In her hurry she consented.

They walked through several halls towards the stairs at the side entrance. Syrinx had quite enough of this celebration. She let her tiredness take over to mask her irritation.

"You looked troubled."

"Oh no, that's alright."

In the corner a man stood relieving himself in a stone bowl constructed in the wall for that purpose.

Edward stopped walking. He leaned with folded arms against the wall. The other man headed back to the Round Table hall.

"We should have something together." The prince watched her emotionless reaction. "Would you like to do something…"

"You are drunk."

He was stepping uncomfortably close. "without the others knowing. We could leave now, take the horses, go to the sea for a couple of days. It is the most beautiful place you will ever see." She doubted that.

He had backed her against the wall. He seemed to have done so by accident.

"No."

"Alright." She fingered the fabric of her dress. It was not over yet. She could be proud of herself if she made it to her room unharmed.

"You are a butterfly." His hands touched the dress Mab had given her. She did not dare pull away. The prince spread the dress. "Wings for a purple butterfly." He was taken away what possibility she had felt for loving him.

The drunk held her pinned to the wall like a butterfly. His mouth lost somewhere in her neck. He stroked down her arms until his hands were on her hips, inching the dress up. He attempted to lift her onto the stone. He did not have the strength for it. He pinched her arms so hard it hurt. His brown hair kept falling in front of his eyes. He was not troubled by it.

Syrinx' stern expression stopped him when he wanted to kiss her. If he did this to her she would be changed forever. She would not let this happen.

He looked to his left and let go of her.

"Why stop now?"

"You'll break. Butterflies are ugly without their wings." He hissed in a haze of drunken logic. She struggled away from him, barely hearing his words. "I don't want you to be damaged. I will have you later,"

"Without any ripping?"

"with your consent. Sweet butterfly." Butterfly sounded like an evil word coming from him, here, now.

He smiled friendly, drunkenly, and nodded at her. He went back the way they had come. One of his inner voices must have told him he should return to his own party.

The outside door was slammed open. The cold swooshed in. So did the second prince.

To her own surprise she did not run away at the sight of yet another man.

"Syrinx!" He called. Had Elgar even known of this celebration?

"You weren't at the fountain." His accusing eyes had difficulty fixating on her. Another one who had been drinking.

She closed the door he had left open. "This isn't the night we usually practice."

"Come in the morning. No excuses." Syrinx nodded, not lowering her eyes, barely lowering her head.

Seemingly calm she walked up the stairs, leaving him behind.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxx

Syrinx could not keep a tremble out of her body when she entered her room. She had not stopped crying since the prince had try to lift her up. She wanted to rip the dress from herself. Its destruction would be a more valid reason to be upset, a more tangible one than a conversation gone wrong, and then she could start blaming herself.

Mab was standing in front of her without having been called. Through the blurry veil of tears Syrinx only saw the purple of her gowns. She could have been blind this moment, she would still have recognised Mab. The feel of magic was all around her. It soothed Syrinx. She remembered how in her dream she had felt stronger confronting her father when Mab was with her. It could not compare to this. Her queen in purple robes spread her arms in an 'are you coming?' gesture. Syrinx hurried into the room.

She interpreted Mab's face as apologetic. There was no way to know for certain.

"You wanted this to happen." The girl choked. She accused Mab because her rationality told her she should. It was a bit disturbing that her heart did not blame the queen. "You spoke to him."

"The wine encouraged him."

Syrinx did not want to talk it over.

"I want a bath."

"The servants are at the celebration and it is the middle of the night."

The queen of magic was refusing her a bath?

Syrinx attempted to hide her tears by turned her head away.

"Those men are far too impatient. They should court you, as is traditional."

Syrinx narrowed her eyes. She did not want to use the words the prince had used but felt forced to do so. "He would have ripped out my wings. You provoked him to …."Her voice shook and broke.

Queen Mab liked how clear the girl's thoughts were when she was troubled.

She wrinkled her nose. "You are no butterfly."

"You were there?"

"You are a flower. Humans can be flowers, in the best case. For wings you need to have magic."

Syrinx would not let herself be distracted by Mab's imagery. "In that case these men will rip out my pedals."

"They might. It's what they do. And you can do the same to them."

Mab touched her cheek. She was here. It was her touch, her magic, her hair brushing against her own. In a moment of boldness and hurt the girl rested her head against the fairy queen. Mab's arms closed around her. Her hand and blood red ring caressed the back of her head as it had done before. The girl's eyes turned dry. She did not know nor care if anything was expected of her. She could not bring herself to speak. She would not let go. Mab would not refuse her. She had said so herself, she owed Syrinx. Syrinx could barely remember the things Mab had said last time they met. She had spoken in a hushed voice. There had been a certain tension. The promise to protect her father stood out clear in her memories, the rest was rather vague. Contrary to words Mab had said ages ago which were etched into her brain.

The door closed by itself behind Syrinx and the embrace was over. The feeling of kindling power and safety was gone. It left Syrinx feeling hollow.

Syrinx lifted her tear stained face. "I don't want them to get drunk in your name."

"They would have gotten drunk in their own name, someone else's or no one's. Now they will give me strength."

"It sullies your image."

"Intoxicated humans truly believe. They believe with heart and soul. They are much more intense and honest in their feelings. If only for that moment they will provide the Old Ways with a rush of power. Syrinx, you have been at worshippings of me before. There was a lot more extravagant drinking going on there. That did not stop you from enjoying those outings."

"That was not the same. I wasn't … involved, and you were beside me."

Mab stroked Syrinx' arms. "Butterfly bruises. They will be gone in a couple of days."

Syrinx looked down ashamed. She might as well say it out loud. "Won't you protect me?"

"Are we back to that plea?" Queen Mab walked away from the girl. The growing distance between them made Syrinx feel ill at ease.

"The king," she swallowed, it was painful. "holds an ill-mannered court."

"The king, is dead." Syrinx looked absolutely terrified. "Hush, that is no reason to leap out of the room. Others will find his body peaceful in bed. "

The queen gazed out of window. A small falcon flew by in the soft evening sky. There it was again, that mysterious wistful look Syrinx had seen before on Mab's face. "Is that a merlin?" Mab did not answer. She stared at Syrinx. The girl wished she could read those eyes, that face.

The bird flew on to fountain.

"Take me back with you."

"You are needed here." It broke her heart that Mab dismissed her wish this fast.

They had been over this a hundred times. Queen Mab was certain Syrinx would execute her plan. It was not necessary to talk out any of this. Everything depended on Syrinx making a sacrifice. Once she had done that, the world would be Mab's. It was not a small sacrifice Mab asked of Syrinx. Mab knew that, Syrinx knew that. Mab would not lie about sacrificing her future life. The queen's mannerism betrayed that she had demanded this and worse of people in her past.

You will do this, Syrinx remembered her say. It was a mere fact. The fact that she was seeking comfort with Mab now testified that she would pull through and do exactly what Mab wanted her to.

You are a lady, you are the prize. The prize for the pagan prince. Elgar. The second drunk.

Mab's fingertips brushed the dusty trunk by the bed.

"I was wrong. I thought he was different. I thought he was more deserving of the crown than his brother."

"Ah yes, you expressed some foolish preference for the eldest son last time we spoke. Is it because you think him more handsome?" Mab encircled Syrinx. She had almost forgotten how sweet strong devotion tasted. "I won't let a Christian rule the land."

"Then why make the Christian fall in love with me?"

"I told you, the brothers will challenge each other."

She looked at Syrinx' pouting face and took her hand. Her warm, human hand. It was trembling, so scared. She guided Syrinx to the trunk. They sat down together.

The girl looked down at her lap. Mab was holding her hands. Syrinx shook violently disgusted by the hands of men that had touched her before. Her leg brushed against Mab's. She took a few deep breaths. She got herself to calm down for a brief moment. "I hoped to find more in Camelot. And if there had to be love, I wanted the love from my stories. Love like Lancelot en Guinevere."

Mab laughed, a cackling from deep within. Syrinx was fascinated she did not dare imagine Mab's voice now came from anywhere near her throat. Her laugh spread like a fire to Syrinx' body. It warmed her from the inside. But it was not a nice laugh.

"Their love was my creation."

"You didn't." Syrinx moved closer to Mab.

"I did." Mab smiled.

"You could do the same to me."

"I could. If I have to you. Or if you want me to."

Syrinx rubbed her arms to stop shivering. "I don't want that, I don't want fake love." She was frightened.

"Humans tend to believe in love, but your heart does not always make the wisest of choices. That can't be helped. No magic can change the heart." Mab was sad. She was thinking of the past. Her arm lay protectively around Syrinx' waist.

Syrinx buried her head in her hands. "I don't want to fall in love. "

"You don't have to."

When she looked up again a while later she could not read Mab's face. She could only catch some flutterings of emotion. Syrinx watched the glitter on her face tremble like a butterfly's wings.

"Is my father safe?"

"Yes."

The back of Mab's shiny hand moved down Syrinx' hair. "You are doing so well, my girl." Mab felt herself slip away from her resolution to be more distant to the girl tonight. Last time she had started making unselfish promises which was something she avoided as much as possible. She did not want to go down that track again.

Because Syrinx was lost in thoughts of her own she did not notice Mab's stare. Her beautiful fae face did not show any expression. Time had paused for Mab. She was spellbound by the girl's devotion. Syrinx shivered. "What's wrong?" It seemed laughable that Mab should ask this after the attack. Yet for a few seconds the assault had been entirely forgotten by Syrinx.

Mab's cool forehead touched Syrinx'. Her mistress' black eyes were closed. She remained silent, unmoving like this, slowly breathing in.

Syrinx waited. Then her body shook. "This is wrong."

"Why? "

Syrinx pulled away. "I don't know."

Mab drew away from her. "I can't stay much longer." She hissed angrily.

"I want to sleep." She wouldn't be able to sleep. Expect if Mab granted her good dreams by magic. "Do you still like me?"

"Of course I like you. "Mab was reminded of another desperate for her approval. "You are my favourite."

"You wanted me to talk to Elgar and I ran. And the others I didn't do … well tonight." Mab took hold of Syrinx' trembling arms. She held her at a close distance in front of her. "Don't fret. You are perfect for the task. Your flight will add to your mystery."

The lord and the butterfly prince had to keep away from her. That was the one thought in Syrinx mind and it was ferocious. Mab wanted all three suitors to be 'available' as candidates. Syrinx wanted them to disappear like the priest and … her father. She would demand it of Mab, had she any hope of getting her wish fulfilled.

"I have to go away from here. They don't have to know. You could bring me back in the morning."

Mab watched Syrinx with a peevish twinkle in her eyes. She was silent for a moment.

"No, I have wasted enough time." Mab stood up and disappeared.

Syrinx stood up frigid as an ice queen and went to sit on the bed. But tears had welled up in her eyes. "No." Syrinx cried. Mab had not made her feel any better. She was pretty certain she had done it on purpose. "I can not sleep now." The more people believed in Mab the more often she will visit, it was a small comfort. Syrinx let herself fall numbly onto the bed. She brook out into fresh tears. A hand stroked Syrinx' hair as she wept.

"You really don't like being without me." Mab stated.

Syrinx did not look up. She shook her head.

"That's very good." Mab sighed. Her lips caressed the girl's hair.

Syrinx fell asleep in her queen's arms. For a moment she believed herself back in her own soft bed in the Land of Magic. And then the feeling was gone.

There was no storm that night, but many flashes of lightning. After much toil and moil Queen Mab arrived in her Land of Magic.

"You cut it bloody short this time, madam." Frik grinned. "Was the prince too charming to refuse a dance past midnight?"

"I did not ask you to comment, Frik."

The colour was drained from her hair and smoke hovered over her shoulders. He would enjoy her suffering.

"And what will you do with him?" Frik nodded vaguely in the direction of a sleeping man. "You said yourself a non-believer in heart of Faerie will damage you."

"Wouldn't you like that? But it is not your problem, Frik. Besides you know how scared of magic he is, he believes. You can be certain of thát."

Mab picked up a crystal, gathering her strength. She peered into it, eyes ablaze.

"I am waiting, Merlin."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When Syrinx woke it felt like Mab had never been there. This time last night's happenings had not been a dream. The wounds in her soul were freshly carved. She kicked her bed blankets away and shivered.

This was all going too fast. Yet she could not lessen speed. She had to get up before sunrise. She had to go to the fountain and meet prince Elgar there. What an ugly name, she thought. Perhaps Mab could change it to something more fitting of the crown and the Old Ways.

She smiled, Mab could change anything. Providing she gained more followers. Thát was going too slow.

Syrinx getting married to the future king of Britain was a long term plan. It would take years to convert the court. She did not want to get married. Suddenly Syrinx was in need of the comforting words Mab had kept from her the other night.

She looked into the hazy manmade mirror in her room. She was pretty. She was Mab's instrument. A plaything for fae, a doll Mab wielded to lure humanity. Syrinx felt a dullness inside of her she could not comprehend. She stood up and left, not giving it any more attention. She did not dare name the feeling.

Life would return to Mab's kingdom because of her. Mab would smile and make the world real again. What Mab needed was something bigger than the superstition of peasants, merchants and farmers, bigger than the feast last night. Something…

Syrinx left the castle, wrapping her cloak around her she thought of how reassuring Mabs presence was. If she could imagine Mab was by her side, she hád to be, she could face any man.

"I see you've come this time," Prince Elgar said in a unpleasant tone of voice.

He too had just left the castle. He led his horse by the hand.

She made up from his silence and sickly pale face that he knew of his father's death. He would not talk about it to her. She wondered if Mab had been whispering to him as well. She must have. Syrinx suddenly felt protective of him. She did not want Mab to do more damage, even if she did it out of necessity.

They walked silently towards the fountain. The prince felt a kinship to her. He sensed the sadness that hung around her. It had been there on his arrival last night as well, his drunkenness had not blocked that out. They felt the hope that they could provide comfort to each other hovering between them.

A careful sideward glance told Syrinx he had not brought swords. She did not ask him about it. She waited until he would explain himself. He would have to at some point. Just as certain as one of them would have to break this silence soon. The fountain and its lady statue were already in sight.

"I have a decision to make that I do not wish to burden you with."

"But you will."

"I have no choice.

Perhaps I am not the right person to tell you this, but no one should learn this of the chatter that will soon arise. There will be a new king soon and he will want a queen. Syrinx, you are very pretty."

Syrinx looked away. "I don't want your brother."

"You can not refuse the king.

"I am betrothed to the advisor…"

"He can be replaced. Syrinx, I …" He turned to look down at her now. His lips looked bitter and soft.

Looking at him she realised the youngest prince was everything she wanted. He was what she had dreamed of. Honest, handsome, noble. There was little feeling to this realisation. "would you consider being my queen?

You need not answer. It is a difficult decision. You should not be troubled with such questions." There was little feeling to his words. Someone else had written them. He simply read the message to her.

"I should be king."

"Yes, you should be." She said and she kissed him and he kissed her.

"I will marry you. Even if it causes a war."

His brother Edward, locked in his room tormenting himself over his actions of last night and ashamed to face Lady Syrinx again, came to exactly the same conclusion.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx x

She had gotten her first kiss. It had been perfect. She had never felt more angry.

The kiss, him, the time, the location. It was the definition of perfect. Perfect being as good as she would get in this lifetime surrounded by these people.

His proposal had sounded so formal, as she had wanted it to be. She paused to wonder why anyone would want her. She was an unhappy, spoiled child. She tried to give others a chance but she could not. She did not want to know them. She was egoistic. She wanted back to Faerie. She would fulfill her old wishes of knights, ladies and courtly love, turned meaningless, to get away from Camelot.

She tried to remember the sensation of the kiss but she could not. On reflection there wasn't a lot to tell about it. She believed her first kiss would be overwhelming. But it was gone before she realized it. Kisses weren't love in its purest form after all. A kiss was something so normal and natural that it was almost disappointing. She slightly flushed when he looked down at her again, holding her cheek. He embraced her in a caring, non-threatening way. Then climbed on his horse and rode back to the castle. He had delivered his message. He could return home.

Syrinx numbly continued walking to where they had been heading. When he was out of sight and hearing, she did not just cry she howled.

She would be happy in this situation had it not been for Mab. Camelot would have been a dream come true and this prince was ideal. She would have loved him on first sight. Love that man. Think something nice about him. Long for some part of him. A strong arm, his smile. She could not do it. "I have to change, I will have to change. I don't want to.", a whiney voice from inside, she did not want it to be there. "I will have to care for one of them." She would have to stop caring who she spent her life with. Great, the tears had arrived. "Three men!

I don't love any of them!" She shouted to the air, to Mab, in panic.

She cursed Mab. She pushed words from her mouth that she had not been able to express before. She had to speak them now. This was the only moment she was upset enough to.

"I do not love them! I do not know which I should let ..court me!"

She was not ready for men, she did not want them to exist for at least a few more years. She did agree with Mab's plan on a rational level. The problem was her heart. And the heart could not be changed. What hurt the most was IF only she had not seen the splendor of the Land of Magic… What should be her motivation to continue this, to return there, was her tormentor. It made her hesitate with every step she took. It made her cry more.

Her obedience had made her miss out on many things. It had brought about her eviction from Faerie paradise. A task in her home land because she was such a good girl. As if her obedience deserved punishment. Had she not been loyal Mab would have kept her in the Land of Magic, she could still have been there now. As a prisoner, perhaps, that did not matter much. She would rather be cellmates with grumpy old Frik in Mab's realm than life mates with one of the men here.

Men! They're all just some illusion conjured up by Mab. It is only a test.

Afterwards Syrinx would go back to Mab's realm. All this will be over and everything else will begin.

Yet a willful part of herself that her loyalty to Mab could not control would not forget this sadness the queen inflicted on her.

The queen: beautiful, merciless. Her belle dame sans merci. Was this how she had imagined Mab even before she knew her? Royal, yes. Cruel?

If people worship her out of fear, would all goodness in Mab disappear? Could stories make people think better about her beloved queen? Yet Syrinx did not want to change her.

This plan was not worth its price. Becoming Elgar's or if that plan should fail, the high lord's wife was too small a victory for the Old Ways. It's a whole country, Syrinx, that isn't small. Mab has thought it all out. It is a good plan. But it was not enough. This wonderful place called Camelot was not where she belonged. The 'something' needed to be done now. Queen Mab needed an instant boost of pure magic that would catapult Syrinx back to the Land of Magic. The girl knew where to find her it.

xxxxxxxxxxx

There was one more magic power. It had been waiting for her. It was her last hope, her secret problem and her greatest fear.

She had never discovered how to block out the water's voice. It was in the fountain, in the drink water, everywhere. She had ignored and avoided it. Now Syrinx needed help and it knew she would seek it out. The water was her only link to magic that was always present.

She felt her breath quiver without understanding the rage inside of her. The rage of the kiss. "I hate it!" She kicked hard against the fountain stones. "Help," she pleaded to solid rock. "Help me." She was afraid of what she was about to do.

She knew Mab would not come. Whoever upset she was, things were going according to Mab's plan. She would never come. Syrinx sobbed and shouted for a while.

Mab had promised her anything. She could have gotten it. Her queen's company forever, her queen's affection instead of this. Stupid! Why hadn't she had the courage to ask? A token of her queen, a promise of return.

In her mind's eye an imaginary Mab stepped forward to remind her of past promises. "You will do whatever it takes to help me. You pledged your allegiance to me." Syrinx hated how Mab had wanted to make her feel important by saying she owed her everything. She had given Syrinx the responsibility to work this out. It had all been a guise. Mab had deluded her to hide the truth: Mab owned her.

Her Queen could have asked anything else of her, anything but marriage. "You do not know.. the way he touched my thigh…He would do more, … They hurt me …."

Mab thought she could win the country by keeping Syrinx here, but she could not. Syrinx would not survive it. She could feel it inside her bones. But there was no way she could make that clear to Mab. She could never tell her, because this would mean she was failing her goddess.

Syrinx felt so sick she wanted to vomit. She stood there gagging overtaken by emotional pain instead. Weakly Syrinx bent over, looking into the water. "Help." Her betrayal only worsened the sobbing. "help." Her cries turned more desperate. "Save her!"

"I loathe being a man's property. I do not want to. Do you hear me, Mab! I don't want to."

"I hear you."

She was sitting by the fountain. Her dress was white like the glistening moon and the fish in the fountain. Syrinx almost fell as she approached her. She wiped the tears from her face. The Lady greeted her with a kind smile.

"Save her."

"I will."

"Please."

"I care as deeply for my sister's safety as you do." She spoke in faint echoes. Her words shone as brightly as her dress, but Syrinx knew she was taking a chance contacting this creature.

"You are not bound by truth like Mab. I don't know if you will keep a promise, but I beg you to save her." Syrinx barely had the strength to keep standing. She moved forward to sit beside the Lady. This was exactly when she stood up.

"In return you will… give me your allegiance. That is my price."

Syrinx looked down at the mud and grass.

She heard the Lady sigh. "I have made you sad. I did not want to make you sad."

Syrinx stubbornly shook her head.

"I do not want to make anyone sad."

The girl's gaze sprang up. "You should have thought of that before you killed the knight."

The Lady rolled her blank eyes to meet Syrinx'. "I do not kill. "

"He is not dead?"

"The knight was mine to take."

"To take where?"

"In my service. He pledged his loyalty to me."

"That makes him and me… rivals?"

"Not rivals," the Lady smiled, "partners."

Grumpily Syrinx returned her gaze downwards. "You can lie."

"I can lie but I do want to protect Mab, as much as you do."

Syrinx continued to look at the ground. It did not matter whether or not she trusted the Lady. "Just take me away here. I want to go home"

The Lady's fingers stroked Syrinx' jawline. She did not feel her touch. She raised Syrinx' head.

With the Lady standing so close –Syrinx wasn't sure the Lady's feet actually touched the ground, it seemed silly to check now- all Syrinx could see was a bright white light.

There was a breath, that she felt, it caressed her cheek for a brief moment.

"Even your tears taste like her." She heard a whisper laced between those words. "Faerie is hard to wash off, in time it will."

Syrinx opened her mouth slightly. A gush of water filled it. The Lady's lips closed tightly around hers. She was drowning, again. The girl pulled away. For several seconds she was convinced she had drowned.

One thought stood out clearly in her mind as she ran away from the Lady. No more kisses.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

She would not cry. She felt like she would never have to cry again. It was a phase she had outgrown. She took her book. She had known she would someday open it for this purpose. She checked it for Mab's lovers.

Can fairies even love? And be victims of the same games they play with mortals?

Fairies were well known for being sensual beings. They took many lovers, human and otherwise. Syrinx knew this really shouldn't upset her. It was wrong, so wrong. Mab, Goddess. You are not really a transcendent ethereal being if you indulge in desires of the flesh.

She heard her inner Mab voice say: Only Christians think like that. Can you really believe anyone has lost faith in me when I kissed them?

The taste of lake water was still in Syrinx' mouth. How Christian it had been to betray her queen with a kiss. She looked at the drawing that had started it all.

"I have not betrayed you, I will never betray you."


	15. Wings

Syrinx wrapped her cloak around her. She fastened it onto her dress. The castle felt cold this week and this had little to do with the temperature. Her body was a frigid and tense place to be in. She had been bored for weeks. This had abruptly ended last week. Her mind had not moved on from that eventful day.

Syrinx had been avoiding other living creatures. She had become rather good at it too. She was late for meals or went down to the kitchen to take them. A few times she had gone into town for food, but she wanted to be careful with how she spent her father's money. It was a gamble how much she could spend before her father and his purse returned. If ever.

She was not lonely. Even since she was a child she had had a talent for keeping herself company. She was alone for most of the time. She was not lonely. But there was something missing and what she felt was the rock hard determination of wanting it back.

The new rule she had set for herself was: never meet a man in private, not under any safety agreement, no matter where. She longed for safeness. "Father, I need you.".

Not many people had made the effort to bother her since Camelot was in mourning. There were tensions in the air, especially between the two brothers. She had heard rumors three days ago during the illustrious funeral of the late king about expecting them to be at each other's throats soon for the crown. The sooner the better.

She tiptoed down the corridor because she felt like tiptoeing on her way to breakfast today. A small yet powerful hand dragged her behind the nearest door.

"Master Frik, of course it is you."

"I bring a message."

"Our queen trusts you for that now?" She tried to keep the scorn from her voice, not wanting to offend.

The gnome's face wrinkled in bitterness. "You might want to keep the arrogance down."

For that one time she could have fun in conversation he was denying it to her. "You displeased her. You made her stay longer than she could. She indulged you. A pretty pathetic thing to do on her side. You weakened her. That is why I am here. "

"Tell me her message."

"It is good for me that she did send me." The old gnome smiled peevishly. "I wanted to talk to you before. As you are well aware of I do not intent to aid Mab. I do not want you to suffer because of her either."

"What I do I do of my own free choice."

"She is making you miserable."

Syrinx glared at him. Her eyes denied what her heart could not. Her betrayal... her betrayal… it was haunting her in Frik's words.

"It is my self-imposed duty to inform you of what Mab believes is too obvious to mention. I told you she would hurt you." He sat down on a barrel. A clear sign that he had a story to tell and this would take some time. "Centuries ago Queen Mab was a fair ruler of her own Land. She had to venture into the human word. Her existence depends on this world. When she felt people's faith change she had to meddle. She is like that. Meddling. Humanity corrupted her. She shed all the qualities she once held because she decided that would be best of her people. I see your face, so eager to forgive her. Yes she was forced into a war. She made the wrong choices because she could not win. If she were to gain power now, it will not do your world any good. Nor will the Land of Magic ever be as it was. Mab is trapped in on a world she cannot understand." The gnome cast her a sad, yet hopeful smile. He wanted her to forsake her mistress.

"Aren't we all?" Syrinx answered rationally. "That sounded poetic for a gnome."

Frik sneered. "Don't let yourself by tricked by her butterfly appearance. Butterflies are ugly. You have to look further than their wings."

"Did Mab have wings? "

Frik sighed in annoyance. "Yes, they were a sign of power and grace."

"What changed? "

"She did." Syrinx knew better than to be satisfied with that answer. She stared at Frik until he spilled the beans. "Man did. Man's believe on the matter of fairies. Reducing fairies they once loved then feared … Christiany, child stories, no more true believers, etcetera …to teensy tiny winged creatures on the brink of death. Mab quickly noticed the change. She refused to adapt to their believes. In her defense she got rid of the wings before she too shrank. She dressed in black and armour from then on. You should have seen her in the old days! Fierce. Always had a taste for battle but did not like to get involved. "

It was not like Syrinx to look this disinterested during a tale. Yet the girl tapped her fingers on the wall as if she was experiencing one of his favourite emotions: boredom. Frik had often envied humans for it, back in the old days. He had boredom to spare now that Mab did not trust him anymore.

"Mab would not send you here."

"I told you, she is punishing you."

"But she knows you would betray her."

"Perhaps she does not care if I do. She has underestimated me before."

"She disliked my wish."

"Though luck, girl. She should have guided you more into a wish she wanted you to make."

"Like what?" Syrinx no longer felt as if she had a common goal with her queen and this shocked her.

"You are prolonging the conversation. Aren't you eager the put the next part of Mab's plan into action?"

"The coronation is in two days will her majesty attend?"

"She might be otherwise engaged. "

Syrinx mockingly repeated his words. She snapped. "Engaged is what I am!"

"Not because of her."

"No because of her I am seeing other men as well."

"Feeling guilty?"

"No. "

"You want me to file a complaint to Mab?"

"No, I am stronger than that." She would not plead a disgraced gnome for help.

He cleared his throat. "As you wish."

She would like to smirk for having won the discussion and perhaps his respect. She could not even manage a smile.

Instead it was he who looked smug. Smug that she finally showed emotions and thoughts of your own. Instead of obeying Mab's every whim.

"She made three men lust after you. What girl would not want that? Three powerful men fluttering around her ready to kill over her? Mab can induce lust." Frik warned her. "It's one of those charming tools she often uses to have things her ways. She will use it on you if she believes the occasion calls for it."

"I know she is playing with us. "

"You are letting her."

"Don't you dare tell her you don't like it?" Se did not answer. "Are you afraid of what she would do? Do not let her know you are not prepared to marry one of them." It was plain on his face now. I knew you were too weak for this work. I warned you about it and about Mab. Your reactions prove I am right.

"Will you deliver your message now?"

He straightened himself and cleared his throat. "Her high and mighty queen Mab lets you know not to be involved in the argument between the two princes downstairs. The Lady of the Lake" he paused to grin. "tells you to pack your things. Your ride home will be waiting at the gate."

He bowed to her and disappeared.

"If the child were to die."

"She won't."

"If…"

Queen Mab's eyes narrowed. "She won't. "

"If her death would suit you…"

"It wouldn't."

"But if it were necessary, madam,…"

The gnome shuffled to another corner of the room. In a hushed voice he continued. "You lost your touch. You can't deal with humans as you used to. The girl has been in desperate need of motivation and you denied her that. Admit it, you are messing up."

"She will come to feel affection for prince Elgar. She is nervous, that's all. She needs time to get used to the idea."

"You are forcing her into this. You don't seriously want that twat on the throne."

"I will do what is necessary."

"Then you marry him, you do that dear queen. Because your girl won't."

"That is her task. She will not disobey me." Mab was silent for a moment. "If I were to marry that would make me…"

"Queen again?"

"Mortal."

"Ah of course if you should marry a human people would believe you to be mortal. And then you would be.

You are not that far from being mortal are you? Mortal by faith. There's just not enough belief in you. The only reason you are alive now is that girl. If it wasn't for her… you'd still be forgotten."

"That is enough Frik! "

"Yes your majesty."

"Fetch me her father, I want to talk to him."

Frik led the man in. He looked surprisingly calm. He approached her as he would any other head of state. He bowed before her. Queen Mab offered him her hand to kiss. He did so, out of duty. She took a moment to observe him. His eyes were not soft on her. There was a stern cut in his forehead. His appearance had grown bitter and serious with his spirit as he aged in the painfully realistic way mortals do. Underneath she recognized the youthful hunger for adventure and stories that his daughter possessed. He was not difficult to read.

He had decided to play the part of political diplomat. A part so accustomed to him that in time he had become one with it. She doubted he remembered another way of being. The trouble was of course that he did not know at which court or with what people he found himself. The feel of Mab's realm would be unusual to him. He pretended not to notice. He pretended not to notice so many things she could see him go blind here in mere hours. If anything he looked most concerned by the gnome.

It is considered rude to speak first when you are a guest. Then again the woman before him encrusted like a statue seemed to be waiting for a verbal reaction. "I know you, but that is not possible. "

A thin smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Where do you know me from?"

"There was a picture of you in a book. I bought it from him." He looked at Frik for a moment. He kept his emotions level. His gestures and words he would keep to a polite minimum as well. That way he could figure out what was going on more effectively. He had a handful of primary questions that would need answering. He deemed it likely to receive answers. "He was a merchant. His noise and eyes were less pronounced and his conduct…"

"You mean to say he appeared human. Yes, he used to have that ability." Mab walked up to Frik. "I won't waste time talking about the failed servant." She slapped Frik on the back of his head because she felt like it. "He did indeed sell you a book on magic. Can you guess why?"

She hoped to reach the dreamer hidden somewhere inside of him. He would not be fooled. "This has something to do with my daughter, hasn't it?"

"Yes."

He would call her lady but could not gather the bravery needed for that. She was too different from any lady he had met before.

"Is she here too?"

"No." Time slipped through Mab's fingers. She traced a pattern on a dust covered book. He noticed she would not give more of an answer. Then, as a sign of good will or simply to startle him, she did. "She remains at court. She is safe and wished for you to be the same. That is what brought you here."

"Her wish?"

"I allowed her a wish. It is not something I often do and I would advise you to show respect to her when it is mentioned. This wish might have saved your life." He would interrupt at such a display of uncertainty, but choose not to. "I will explain to you how things work here. I do not want you to make a mess of this place. As you can see it is not in optimal condition and your Christianity will not help. Your faith can literally bring down the house. And we don't want that." She allowed herself a wink, which was more frivolity than she had displayed in a hundred years. "Be careful not to dwell on your beliefs too much while you are here."

"What does my daughter have to do with this?"

"Why, she helps me rebuild my realm."

It seemed too forward to inquire about her status or subjects. Duke Ealdor vaguely remembered the book sold to him. There had been many kings, queens and nobles mentioned in it. He would hate to be mistaken. A hunch told him he would have to look in the fictional compartment.

He took a disapproving look at the markings on the walls. "This is a temple in honor of the Old Ways?"

"It is a bit more than that."

"It's hell." Frik sighed desolately, earning himself another slap.

"This is what your daughter believes in. It is the Land of Magic." That sounded a tad too unbelievably unrealistic to his ears. Mab's lips tightened together. "You should be careful with such thoughts. I felt the land cringe under it."

He had no idea how this made sense. In a way it did, but it completely did not. The only fair conclusion was that the woman was mad and she had some form of power over his daughter.

"When can I see Syrinx?"

"When she is married."

Their eyes met by accident and spontaneously engaged in battle. Mab won. Her gaze shoved him back half a meter. It was then her claim of possessing magic became real to him.

"Madam," he said for he had heard the servant call her that. Suddenly he found himself empty of smooth political wordings. This was a personal matter. He could not talk about it in any other way. "my daughter is not … she is still young."

"You would have her married as well."

"Yes, I would. She would have been by now. That is not it. She does not want to get married." He realized he had given her his most feeble excuse, because that one was more honest to his heart than any other reason he could think of. He knew she was a free spirit. She did not want to follow commands. Therein lay his defense now for her not to wed and therein had lain his desire for her to wed before. The same principle lay beneath both these decisions. Marriage would have protected her. Now it would put her in danger. He did not want his daughter to get hurt. This woman would hurt her, he saw it in her eyes. She had that look rulers had before they ordered troops to war, to die.

"Maybe if you had chosen a different man."

He fell silent. He felt the instant urge to drag the answers she hinted at out of her throat.

He would not lose his temper. "What benefit does her marriage give you?"

Queen Mab cocked her head. "Your daughter will return life to the Old Ways. There is no reason to tell you the specifics."

"You think she is strong enough, but she isn't. I am only telling you this because I like the girl. You and your existence I don't care about."

"Have I ever told you how much I hate your constant criticizing, Frik?"

A pang of pain entered in her heart. What a joke her court must seem to the stranger.

"You are testing her faith when you can't afford it."

"I send her out to strengthen her believe and to be of service to me."

"Your existence is highly dependent on her. She is your next Mordred and she doesn't even know. It almost makes me feel sad for you." Frik was betraying her weaknesses to an important person from the enemy line. That was the sort of thing her sister would do. 'Oh no I never intended to blab about Merlin's mother. You brought this all on yourself, sister.' Mab remembered she already had informed Syrinx of her dependency upon her in a moment of weakness.

"She won't be for much longer." Mab hissed. "I am gaining more followers."

Frik snapped her back to reality. "Where have your plans gotten you by now?"

It was never wise to inform a goddess of her hubris. Especially when it was too late for her to undo decisions made by that hubris, like sending Syrinx to Camelot. But Frik felt strengthened by the fire of rebellion, besides he had grown tired of repeatedly saying 'Yes, madam.'

"Your daughter will be queen soon," Mab smiled sourly directing her attention back to the Duke. "and sire a son. A new king who will follow the Old Ways."

Bitterly Ealdor replied. "It will break her heart. She has been blocking me out because I betrothed her to my friend. And I am her father. You, she will hate." He did not feel like sharing how little he had known about his daughter before she came to stay in Camelot. Their relationship was none of this person's business.

"She will, but she will continue believing."

"Why is that?" The father inquired. "Why are you so convinced my daughter serves you?"

"I made her."

Frik rolled his large eyes.

Mab smashed the gnome against the wall.

"Her mother died many years ago and she was most certainly not you. What have you done to my daughter?"

Frik was thrown away on the floor much like an old ragdoll. "Take it out on me. Why don't you? Because you are losing strength… you are becoming more violent again. Just like last time you weakened." He grinned. "Remember how cruelly you treated me then? Just wait, sir Duke, till she does this to your daughter."

Ealdor did not like the gnome, but his words rang true. Frik had gotten a less in cunning, or this was simply a fool's bravery. Whatever it was he had shifted the power between him and Mab and she had felt it.

"You are a deity. A pagan goddess." The mortal man concluded taking their argument in his stride. He was not unfamiliar with the sight of a monarch standing over a beaten up servant.

"You catch on quickly."

"I often have to. Kings have the tendency of succeeding each other quickly and violently. I am good at adapting. I have served under several very different kings. I am second to the king." And that was why he would be useful to Mab.

A funeral, a battle and a celebration for the new king all in one week. What a treat. Syrinx did not like this changing atmosphere at all. She counted herself lucky that she would not be around to witness the fighting nor the coronation. Her heart leapt. This was it! Her last day here. The princes would confront each other like Mab wanted.

She walked on in the direction she had been going and imagined the scent of a scrumptious, warm and nutty meal waiting for her. She turned on her heels and went back to her room. Getting ready to leave was her priority. Even food could wait. She took her book with her. No time to change clothes. She wrapped the book in her precious dress. She wanted to take more cherished possessions with her. She looked around the room and realized she lacked those. She quite liked the trunk, but that would not be practical to carry. She wanted something her father had given her. She took comfort in the book. That had in a way been his gift to her as well as Mab's and Frik's.

She would leave the castle through a side exit. When she closed her chamber door she could hear the rumor in the hall. All nobles had left the dining room. The names of the two princes resounded through the castle.

Her curiosity lead her to a corridor that looked out over the hall. She watched down from the shadows. It was not a pretty sight. It was a very angry sight. Both princes had an equal amount of men rooting for them.

In a second Syrinx saw the future play out before her and understood why Mab did not want her there. Now that she was not present in that room they would fight each other and that would be the end of it. Had she been there she would have become a scapegoat. Their true motivation would show and her pagan magic would be blamed for both their infatuations. She felt almost brave in running away

In the angry mob she also recognized the part where her father begged for her life. She had prevented it. She smiled a bit silly at that. She had saved her father. Her success made her giddy.

The princes had drawn swords.

The eldest son had the legal claim on the throne. His was the coronation by right. The youngest owned a legendary sword. He based his claim on that and pure stubbornness. The sword belonged to Camelot, not to him. Syrinx heard herself grind her teeth. The sword belonged to her. She wanted to take it with her back to Mab.

"Why are we fighting over this?!" Edward shouted. "You weren't interested in the crown before our father's death!"

His brother charged again. His face contorted by red hot anger.

The next moment their fight ceased. The gate was smashed open by a knight on horseback. Syrinx eyes widened. A shining armoured knight entered bearing a sword that required no introduction. It was very clearly Excalibur. The sword of the true king. It reduced Kisler to 'a nice legendary sword'. He who has Excalibur rules. The rider advanced. He carried the sword that and handed it to prince Edward.

Syrinx saw this as her sign to leave and possibly the defeat of Mab's plans. She hurried to the stairs. By the time she opened the last door to freedom the horse was back outside and waiting there for her. She looked up to meet the knight's face. She recognized him now. He helped her on the horse with him. He rode through many forests. Faster than she had seen any horse go. She held her cloak around her. Her bundle of treasures was pressed against her chest. The knight had not grown more talkative. He did not look unhappy nor dead for that matter. He was what he had always wanted to be. The dashing stuff of legend.

They arrived at the lake. The horse pranced into the water. Frik was in his boat on the lake. He had been fishing while he waited for her. He put his fishing gear away. The old gnome helped her off the horse and into the boat. She looked behind her as they floated towards the entrance of Mab's realm. Frik kept up the pretense of rowing. The knight and his kelpie rode on to disappear under the water surface.

Syrinx liked seeing the cave again. She did not miss the open sky. The rocks around the water stream leading to the palace glistened and reflected equally bright as stars do. These canals been dry before. The cool air of the Land of Magic filled Syrinx' lungs before she could see Mab's palace.

Frik walked into the room.

"Where did you disappear to? "

Not far behind him Syrinx followed him into the room.

Queen Mab blinked when she saw her.

"The girl was caught in the fight." Frik said. "I had to go back and get her out of there. They would have killed her. Instead of fighting each other the princes would have attacked her."

Ealdor's gaze went back and forth between his daughter and the queen.

"This conversation is over. Syrinx, take your father with you."

Syrinx did not dare move. The queen came over to where the girl was standing and pushed her towards her father.

They did not speak nor smile to each other. They took each other's hand relieved to be reunited and left the room as the fairy queen desired. Talking would come later. Syrinx hope it would be much later.

Queen Mab watched Frik's features intensely. She had not been able to be present in Camelot herself. Her crystals had refused to show her what had happened on that crucial moment. She could not approve of him forcing her to let Syrinx stay in Faerie again.

She walked to the open door.

"She disobeyed your instructions. Do you still trust her?"

"The girl loves me."

"You have loved your creations before."

"Very amusing. She is not meant to be my lover." Mab seemed to think it over for a moment. "Not yet."

"Things did not go according to plan?" he mocked.

"They did go according to someone's plan. My sister's! plan. I know where you sneak off to Frik," Her eyes fixed on Syrinx' figure before it disappeared behind a corner. "and her too."

Days went by. Syrinx did not ask Mab for the result of the princely duel. She did not know how much time had passed outside of the Land of Magic. Mab might just be waiting for her to be ready to return to Camelot so she could send her back to the exact same moment she came from. Syrinx suspected their perception of time inside of Faerie was determined by Mab.

Syrinx, her father and Frik dinned together often. Usually she ate simply bread with raisins and honey. It was quite nice gathering like that, but she missed Mab's company. Also Frik had a talent for annoying her.

Mab and her had not talked since she returned. Syrinx kept it a secret how happy it made her to be back in her palace and presence. Her new problem was that her mistress was not pleased.

Queen Mab was sitting on her throne. Legs crossed, dark look in her green eyes. Unapproachable.

"Mistress, I ask one more thing of you. I would like a sword of my own."

"You will have it. I have no more need of you, Syrinx." Mab said dismissively.

Syrinx took a few steps forward. She did not want to be discharged of her service. "I do have a question, about you."

It was years after first meeting her queen for the first time and she still had hundreds of questions about her.

"Who is Merlin?"

"Again with the Merlin. He is a traitor wizard."

"I noticed the pillars in the old caverns below. The sculptures they look like you. Were there more faeries of your kind? The tall kind? Did they have wings?"

Mab rose from her seat as an oncoming storm.

"You have no right to ask me such." She looked down on Syrinx. Her eyes did not have to look as far down than she used to.

The girl was not that important to her existence. She did not have power over her. "I am certain you have been wondering about your fairies. And why the box is no longer in your room. I will show you to them."

Mab walked Syrinx there. Her arm sternly, almost painfully around the girl's waist.

She brought her to a small dark room. It did not contain more than an elegant table and the box on top of it.

Mab opened the box. Her nails raked through dust and fragments of wings. "They are dead."

Syrinx swallowed disbelievingly.

"They were fragile. Creatures with wings usually are. Wings are not suitable for battle. They make you appear weak. This is dust of your weakened faith."

"I thought I had prevented this! The dying."

"You could have. But now there is not a trace of their existence left. Nothing but fairy dust! In time, the dust fades."

The girl wanted to say sorry. She could not. She felt awful. She had done everything she could. She hated to see her queen like this.

"This happens because you no longer believe in me as you used to." She whispered to the girl's hair.

When the grief-stricken queen finally let go of her Syrinx hurried back to her room. She threw her crying self on the bed to find new dresses there. These were nothing like the dresses at court. This was Mab fashion. Elegant ones, longer than her previous one because she had grown. These dresses would fit her better now. The dresses covered most skin, Syrinx was grateful for that. She did not want to go back to the men at court in revealing dresses. She did not want to go back, final.


	16. Taking Revenge

Surprise dear readers and reviewers,

I have finally returned. At long last I conquered the beast that is this chapter.

There are so many of you. I feel I have to thank you again for your loyalty (leathé in old-ish English I love that word) and your honest, compassionate reviews.

I received several interesting questions. I will seek to present the according answers in the following chapters. Hang on to your questions. If they have not been answered, let me know and I will be sure to do so either in the story itself or in a personal message.

I am also very pleased with the femslash requests. I am on your side, dears. Let's hope the story is too. These things tend to have a mind of their own. You are a fantastic audience. Reviews are cookies, cookies write chapters -something like that. – No pressure. Biscuits and tea all around! That is my point.

I could and would continue praising you, but Mab urges me to get on with the story.

In this chapter I will refer to some past events. I checked some things but did not reread everything. If I made mistakes, please forgive me. I am only a fairy.

I can make no promises on when the next chapter will be up. This is what I can give you: 1. We have entered the grande finale of this story. 2. I have an arsenal of promising titles for the following chapters and don't quite know yet which to pick. Butterflies are ugly, Queen of the Old Ways, the Lady, the Lord.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"I am leaving."

"Syrinx, you can't."

"I have to, father."

Syrinx did not look at him as she donned her thick riding cape and took her newly given elfin sword in hand. The handle was of purple velvet and gold threat. It matched the elegant deep purple dress with gold decoration she wore today. She had a good reason for paying such unusual close attention to her clothing.

"Queen Mab once forced me to leave. I did not want to go then either." She wondered if she had been heartless in that respect. She would have stayed by Mab's side forever if she had her way. In that past not even the thought of seeing her father again, after many years of inexplained absence, could make her freely agree to leaving this land. Perhaps that is what Faerie does. Her crying and shouting had not mattered to the queen. She needed to go. Queen Mab had decided it and Syrinx could not, though she knew too it was the only option. She would go for her. She was not forcing her now.

Syrinx strapped the sword securely around her waist. Her loyalty demanded it of her, a second time. "I could not live with myself if I shouldn't go."

She could not tell if she and her father were growing closer or farther apart. Things had a way of remaining constant in the Land of Magic. She talked to him more freely now, if still in sparse conversations. She had everyone she ever wanted to see, everyone she cared about in one place and though she did not often talk to any of them or they to her she had found a kind of peace.

Water drops fell from her hair onto her skin. She paused to dry her long locks. She did not look up to meet his face. She knew what she would find there and it could not stop her.

Her father narrowed his eyes. His eyelids slightly twitched in his attempt to avoid a full out glower His daughter would do anything for the Mab creature. It would harm her and those around her, but most of all her. She, the Mab, had already tainted her with this pagan sorcery. At least she released her weakness. He wished she could break free from wathever spell she was under that made her worship the very ground her goddess walked on. She had to see the light someday. He was confident in the inner strength of his daughter. How he wished she would not pour that strength into a misguided cause. He hated to see her indulge into her weakness, giving everything she was to the very thing that blinded her from reason and alienated her from herself.

He knew this place, this so called land. He knew its evil from stories. He tried to block out these stories. Even so he did not like it there. The air itself felt hostile to him. The glittering caves and rooms resembled a dream, perhaps an afterlife, visions from a pagan nightmare looming over him to catch his soul or so his priest would say. Ealdor himself was not that poetic or fanciful in his doom scenarios, but he could not help the way he felt and that bordered pretty close to the images the church would paint him on fairies. This was a tense atmosphere to live in, no doubt in no small amount due to the rotten temperament of the land's female ruler. He was ill at ease in this place except when he could watch over his daughter. This land meant the world to her. She had confessed to him only the day before how she had spent months, years in this place. She had told him the Land of Magic was her home even if a full blood human as herself did not belong here by nature. She had not told him this at great length. A mere sentence did suffice. He had not expected her to provide more explanation than necessary. Her desire had been clear. He had not understood everything she told him on magic and fairies and such, but his love for her did understand.

He watched her ruefully. She stood armed before him with a sword and brave words. She was to represent the ideals he had her brought up with. Chivalry much admired in men proven a tragically bitter and questionably quality in a woman.

Syrinx taken a lavender bath. She took the soothing scent in with closed eyes. She tried to convince herself that she was not in her right to be this illogically upset. Convincing herself came surprisingly easy. Yet she remained very upset. Upset or not, she knew what to do.

"She demands this of you?" She could hear his contempt.

Her honesty demanded her to say. "No. You don't know what this is about. I saw what would happen."

"You could tell me."

This sounded like a joke to her ears. Syrinx could not explain it all. Her trial, her life, his death, his sacrifice. She would try and provide him with some more acceptable explanation. "This is about the kingdom. If Elgar does not become king queen Mab is lost. Don't you see? Prince Edward is a devote Christian. They were about to fight when I fled. Elgar had been given a certain victory with Excalibur in his clutches. I thought all was lost."

"Syrinx, this can't be right. Excalibur vanished. "

"It is! The legend has returned. The knight who escorted me home gave it to the Christian prince. I thought Mab's work was for naught. But now… Father, I have to see this for myself. I will not be in danger. The battle might already be over when I arrive."

"What battle?"

Her hair was still dripping wet, it would dry on her way to the battlefield. Her father took her arm before she managed to walk out on him. He repeated the question.

"I overheard queen Mab and Frik. They were in the crystal room." She swallowed her inner frustrations on Frik's presence in the room he had been explicitly banned from. Apparently Mab had forgotten about that. "I was on my way back from taking my bath. " She saw the crystals again before her mind's eye. Shattered on the floor. Mab's precious magic. So precious that Mab rarely let Syrinx watch as she worked on them. She had not let the girl touch them apart from the few times she tested her lacking magical abilities. The sparse times they did work in Syrinx' hands, with Mab's aid, the crystals had not shown her what she wanted to see. Syrinx was probably no longer allowed to touch them. There were none left. The room of magic had lost its splendor. She swallowed the sight of Mab's withering inner sanctum away. "I was too ashamed of my flight to ask her who had won. Elgar or Edward. They matched strengths, fought each other, testing both swords. The one who won would be the rightful king."

"It does not sound like the royal princes to fight."

"Are you accusing me of making up stories? They were put up to it."

"I know them to be much smarter than that. "

"It is due to circumstances. They changed, father." She would not bother to explain how Mab made them fall in love with her. She had planned to tell him once and in good time she would. Mab's plan sounded ridiculous right now. Especially how easy it had been to turn the princes against each other. Yet it would work. Syrinx would make sure of it.

"I saw those boys grow up. I saw them more often than I saw you." A lump of silence struck like a blade to her throat. His absence and her loneliness were not something she liked to be reminded of.

"Thanks to my fiancé," she spoke the word with the same harshness she had heard Mab call the lord that. " the princes ceased the fight. He urged them to talk it out. The discussion went on for days. Instead of the discrete emotional duel Mab had set up it was decided that this will be a full blown war." They decided to play their favourite game, is how Mab had phrased it. "One day from now. That gives me just enough time to ride there. She needs me to be there after the battle and marry the victor."

"What did your fairy say?"

"That the princes would be more motivated in their fight if I were there."

"Did she say you should watch this battle? "

Syrinx refused to speak or shake her head. In truth Frik had told Mab to keep the girl out of it and her mistress had not contradicted him. He told her Syrinx was useless. It gnawed at her to see Frik in Mab's presence as one trusted. Mab doubted Syrinx' loyalty but Syrinx was certain her faith had never wavered. She was not at fault. She watched Frik worm around her mistress until it became too painful for her to watch. The conversation would not feed her new information for her ears had grown deaf and her mind was dulled by this foul sight.

"She wants me " she hesitated, at a lost at what Mab wanted. Her queen had barely spoken. She could not interpret the impression Mab had given, except for a sadness that bore bad news. "to… I am going that battlefield despite what wishes she may have for me."

"I care about you and the princes. If they are fighting each other I will go with you." He could not see himself stay here without his daughter.

"No, you will not. You have to be safe. That was my wish to keep you safe and that will keep you here." Her voice ragged by emotion.

"I need you to be safe, Syrinx. You cannot stop them from fighting. If that fairy wanted you to go she would have told you."

"She would not have hesitated."

"There is no reason for you to go and endanger yourself."

True her death would not work into Mab's advantage. Such a thing appeared futile to the girl. She had seen Mab's dress brush over the floor covered with crumbled shards of empty crystals. She was barefoot yet she did not cut her feet. Syrinx thought of the fairies. Their queen was growing weaker. I have not earned my place here yet. "I need to know, father, me. Not her. I don't even want to learn this through her visions. I need to be a part of it."

She had to see who she had to marry, he understood that. He wished he would have gone about her engagement, her education, her future, her life differently.

Syrinx saw his pity. She did not want his pity. She wanted him to know everything. It hurt her to leave without having confided in him. "I will return. I saw the state of her crystal room. Without her crystals she has next to no power over current events. If the Christian wins, Mab has lost. I cannot let that happen."

"Will you stop defining the princes by their beliefs?" he snapped.

"If she is losing power…"

"She would want you to be safe. If she actually cared about you, which I believe is not so."

"If the worse does come to pass I want you to stay with her. Help her if she should demand it of you."

"If she loses," Syrinx shook her head. "if she loses, listen to me, we will leave this place together."

Syrinx grunted. "Oh father!"

"I won't let her keep you prisoner. Your fondness of her is disgraceful."

"If she loses, she will die. "

He clearly believed she was blowing things out of proportion. The reason he did not voice this opinion was that he knew he could not trust what he believed anymore.

She considered bursting out of the room. If this was the last time she saw her father, she did not complete the thought. This did not feel like a possible option. She did not want them to part like this.

"You would kill a man?"

"I don't know." The answer, as she well knew was yes. She would do what she had to to save her mistress. Half of the time she was not certain how much the years had changed her and who she had become in Mab's hands. Now everything about herself was crystal clear.

"I want to see with my own eyes who I must wed."

"I see you would like to care about the princes but you do not. Your real motivation if there is any, is a delusion."

"It would be easier if I could love."

"You can love."

Perhaps in time, she reflected, years after her marriage she would grow to care for her husband. She had lost hope that would even happen. She shook her head. Not without magic.

Her father believed in a type of magic and love that could not exist for her. A strong human real kind of magic. Was her father a romantic? Not really, but in this he was.

"You grew up expecting a chivalric romance. "

"That was not what the men at court tried to do to me." She did not want to betray anyone. She feared against her own instincts that her father would approve of normal healthy behavior as stroking a girl's thigh.

"I am sorry for that. I should have taken better care of your education. " She did not want him to apologize for the personal traits she held so dear. It only made her feel worse about herself. He should ask forgiveness for marrying her of. She saw in his eyes that was what he truly wanted to do.

"Do not come near the battle. Watch only." Her father was frowning, asking himself how he could trust her in this. How could she even believe in coming back from this adventure? Because she believed, was the answer. That sounded too cheesy although it was the truth. Mab thought her strength had lessened but it never did and Syrinx would prove it.

He took a good look at her. In her finest clothes carrying an elvin sword with her. He did not believe she could fight but if she could what better sword to have. He wondered where does the fairy queen kept the armoury. He wanted to take up weapons and so he could protect his daughter and join her in her quest or simply out of here. "You look like you are riding out to behead an evil prince. This is no ballad. The innocent and brave don't return unharmed from war. You should know by now not to believe in stories. They won't do you much good. Reality is too different."

She agreed, she nodded.

"You gave me those stories, father. I have to go."

"We could go together." Leave and not return, that is what he meant.

"She would know."

"What of it?"

"I will not give up on her, father." She emphasized the word father to cut the conversation short. She needed to gain power over this farewell and time for her mind to put everything right. She feared she would otherwise be caught in the same conversation over and over again.

"What can you do?"

"Save her. I ask you to do the same "

"I will not let you go alone. A lady unaccompanied …" to war.

"I am in less danger than anyone else there." It pained her heart to ignore his concern. "There is no one you can send with me. I will take one of Mab's horses. I will be there and back in a flash."

Her apparent (feigned?) unconcern was exactly why he worried. "You don't know the way."

"The horse knows the way. It can take me anywhere I want to be taken."

His daughter possessed a force the likes of which he had not seen before. It was unstoppable. He could do nothing but honour her strength as he would honour that in a knight from her stories He had already caved in and lost this discussion. He would let her go. He stepped aside. The open door behind him. Syrinx embraced her father and kissed him farewell on both cheeks.

"Father, I want you to watch over Mab. Her existence depends on the outcome of this war. Beware of the gnome. Don't let him fool her or you. He has a personal feud to settle with her. She would not forget such a thing. She must have some sort of plan. If it goes wrong I want you to stand up for her. He is in league with one with power and questionable intent who promised me help but would have Mab harmed. I don't know why." She would have left the Lady out of her speech because of her uncertainty yet this is exactly what forced her to bring her up. She could not help feel that they were playing into her hand.

Her father did not care about the fairy but he nodded. He cared about preserving life and he cared about his daughter. He would respect her. He was a man of honour. One of few.

"There is another thing. I need to find Merlin."

"King Arthur's wizard?"

"Yes."

"He left Camelot. Long before you were born. Imprisoned they say by a sorceress. He is dead most likely." This new reality he found himself in made him add. "if he were real, a normal man and not some… creature." He waved his hand indicating the Land of Magic at large.

"I know he lives in the woods, with a woman not far from here. I intended to find it before, but I had to go to Camelot. When I was there I no longer had the opportunity to find the hut near the lake. All things trace back to Merlin. I don't know why" The list of what she did not know was a long one. "Mab keeps mentioning him.

Do you remember him in any story about fairies? Are there stories with Arthur and fairies?"

"Morgan Le Fay is the closest link I can think of."

"I need a wonderful story about the legendary wizard Merlin and an elfin queen."

"If such a story exists shouldn't it be in your book?"

"I looked there. It only deals with prearthurian, pagan heroes. There is no mention of the wizard."

"Perhaps there is no connection between him and your fairy. I reckon a lot of that book was made up."

"That wouldn't be a surprise, Frik wrote it. It was meant to keep her alive."

"Syrinx, no one in Camelot had heard of this queen before you spread the word. She is your invention."

"You read the book didn't you?'

"Yes."

"What did you think of it?" Of her?

He sighed. "I really don't recall. It was a long time ago. It is a fanciful book in a clumsy kind of way. I purchased it because of its uniqueness. I heard of some of those heroes before I acquired the book."

"So they were real?"

"As far as I can tell."

"That is my thoughts exactly. There are all kinds of stories in the book on fairies and knights. It wouldn't be like her not to stay involved during and after king Constant's reign. Yet not one of Arthur's knights is mentioned but when she tells me of them… Everything she told me, she lived it. She wás there. This must when it went wrong for her. She does not want to be associated with it. That is why Frik did not write about those events. Not during Arthur's time and not when he was made to complete the book. We have been fed false stories about king Arthur and his knights."

"You delve too deeply into these things. "

"I don't see the connection and I know there is one. I want to find it when I return with your help. You can read better than I can. I have to find Merlin."

Her father looked tormented. "Why did you have to learn how to read?"

"Isn't it ladylike?" There was no humour to her voice.

He gave her an indecisive look. "It is ladylike and a tad dangerous."

"Mab taught me."

"I am not surprised."

"I mostly taught myself." she confessed.

"I will help you find the dead wizard if it means that much to you. Just return unharmed, my daughter."

In that moment she wanted to take him with her. She reminded herself he could not join her to the battlefield for she knew how it would end. He was not allowed to be present at her trial before the crown. She would not have her father be a sacrifice. He could never leave Faerie. "Try to believe in magic for as long as you are here. It would make things easier for everyone." She embraced him once more. She held onto him longer than she intended. To contrast this display of affection which he might interpret as a need for his guidance, she kept her final goodbye brief. "Be safe."

The Duke Ealdor had seen men to war before. This situation was all wrong. He could not bear watch his daughter ride out. He watched her tiny frame as she walked away. He was condemned to these dark caves for his own wellbeing.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The horse took Syrinx to a crowded valley. She knew this place. She had been here before on a damp summer's night, with queen Mab. Then lights had been lit across the plain merely because it was traditional. The moon was bright enough to light the night. The farmers living in these regions had held a feast. For the Old Ways and the new. There had been no argument here over religion or rightful rulers. The pagan rituals were reluctantly overviewed by Christian priests in their effort to gain popularity. As in turn druids were forced to partake in Christian rites. Time would tell who would give into the other's religion.

The peasants and even some people higher in rank would climb up the hill to praise and pray to Mab. This valley was a place of prayer for those still loyal to the Old Ways. Syrinx had watched Christianity give new meaning to Celtic festivities and holy places. The Christians were not hard to pick out of the crowd. They were humbler in their prayers and attire. More ashamed yet bolder at the same time. Both religions looked at peace with the other that one night. Syrinx felt a hidden fear. How long until this feast's origin would be forgotten? When would that weary druid addressing the crowd in a hushed voice be replaced by a priest and the sacred valley by a building made of stone?

Syrinx had stood by her mistress the entire night overlooking the events from the hill. Only those who believed could see them. Queen Mab graced and blessed those still loyal to the Old Ways with her presence. The Christian traitors did not deserve to see her, she said. Syrinx would have liked it to be otherwise. She urged Mab to make herself visible to everyone. Urging being a soft imploring. If the people could see her they would change their beliefs in an instant. Mab refused. She said brusquely that that was impossible at this stage. Syrinx remained quietly by her side. She watched down the hill in excitement. There was music down there that could take her anywhere. By the end of the night she was amazed she had been standing in the same place all the time for those tunes had drawn her spirit right into the festivities. They played tunes. Ancient and humanly flawed ones. Every villager must have known them, past down from generation to generation. You could feel the power in them. They were new to Syrinx and frankly she would not have wanted it any other way for this magic the tunes carried could not have had a bigger influence on her even if they had been part of her since childhood. That magical night was a moment which although it pasted it would never be over. It would always be with her. That was a clear fact. So she could long for it but never miss it.

Today she had returned and she would watch down the same hill in grief.

She saw her spot on the hillside was taken. Overlooking the battlefield from there was a knight on horseback. She recognizes him at first glance. Judging from the way he sat on his horse he was not here to fight. He did not look lost, belligerent nor particularly sad. He had also come to watch. She came to a standstill next to him. He did not greet her.

"This place is sacred. The blood of saints was spilled here. Now that of common men. It should not be this way." He was Christian, still. She had not expected that. His faith must be strong to resist the Old Ways when he was in service to them. Surely he had witnessed more proof of the Old Ways than of his 'true religion'. Yet he refused to marry magic and faith. She was met with a kind of admiration she did not know existed. He was a true knight, steadfast in his loyalty to his king, his lady and his God. The mystical king Arthur for whose memory he had set out on his quest to find Excalibur. The Lady who he had found on his quest and who pulled him under the lake. And God seemingly absent from all of this.

"It was sacred long before that. The stories have changed. The people remain pagan at heart."

"They forget."

"They need to be reminded."

He finally looked at her, neither benevolent nor hostile. "You know it is not that easy. You can't expect them to believe in fantasies and fairytales like you do when they have found the true Lord."

A horn sounded. The end tones of the horn sounded almost playful. Then the music of swords and cries began below.

"Shall we dance?"

Syrinx grinned at the knight. "Let's not."

He lowered his sword in its scabbard. She had not noticed he was holding the hilt. Perhaps he had been ordered to greet her in battle after all. He offered her his flask of water.

Syrinx took it. She was thirsty. The girl drank calmly.

She did not waver at the sight of violence. She felt no compassion. She was at too far a distance to see the battle as anything more than a depiction of history before her eyes. There was nothing that could make a battle like this one turn into legend. Not yet.

She would be part of the legend. That is why she had dressed up. If she looked the part, believed in it, all present here today would believe it too. She was of the Land of Magic. She had come for them. The war lords on this field of slaughter would gaze upon her and realize that they were the stuff of legend and they would act accordingly. She was not a fool to believe in the outcome of chivalric stories. But there was hope for they knew the stories as well as she did. They knew what they would have to do and she could make them do it.

It was as if their small exchange of words had never occurred. The real beginning was here as the battle commenced. Syrinx felt the knight watch her. She returned the flask half emptied. His gaze stayed upon her. It asked a clear question, three in one actually. Who do you want to win? Who does your mistress favour? Who will you wed for the sake of the kingdom?

"I am not marrying either of them." She stated more brusquely than intended. He kept silent in what she imagined was respect for her decision. If it was not respect she did not care what his opinion was. After a surprisingly short while the fight turned tedious to watch. She felt compelled to make conversation. "Who do you want to see victorious?"

"The most honourable man."

"And your lady?"

"She does not care who becomes king."

"What does she care about?"

"Not much." He remained silent for a while. "Her sister."

"You are here to protect me then?"

"In a way.

I had a feeling you would be here."

"Is that why you brought me a drink?

On her orders?"

He almost smiled, she had not tried to make him smile. "No, that is was my own doing. I brought my own flask with me. They don't think of such practical human things."

"Thank you." Despite the drink her throat remained painfully dry from riding. "Knight," she said unbothered by having forgotten his name "you serve the Old Ways despite being Christian. Could we make you king?"

"I have no claim nor ambition in that line. I am bound to the lake and its Lady. She does not care who rules in the Land of Man. She let me come here because I wanted to see this. She respects my human ambitions and desires. She gave me Excalibur. I am proud to have worn it and returned it to Camelot as was my dream. " He looked slightly uncomfortable. He was not used to talking even this much.

"Now it is someone else's."

"It is time to move on."

"Did you find what you were looking for when you came to the lake?"

"Yes.

Did you?"

"Yes." She answered just as dutifully.

They observed the battle. Somewhat removed from the valley, near the hill as if perfectly orchestrated for Syrinx and the knight to see, the two princes had found each other. They were out on each other's blood. Considering the vastness of the battlefield and number of soldiers involved it had taken them little time to find each other. It all came down to the two of them of course. No other person on the field mattered. They had nothing to do with it. This reminded Syrinx of when Arthur and Mordred, father and son, confronted each other in Mab's story. She wished the brothers would have it over with soon so the rest of the battle, the part that was useless anyway, could come to a halt.

"Do you believe he is the right person to carry Excalibur?"

"Excalibur is back where it belongs."

They watched a while longer. She felt they would discuss the sword fight soon and so they did on the knight's following words. "He fights with more honour than his brother."

"Yes, but Elgar is very talented at swordplay. Which might not mean a lot. In this duel of legendary swords Edward's holds the clear advantage."

"I do not know the other sword."

"It is called Krisler. It is older than Excalibur. There are stories about it but they have become quite muddled. Too many different meanings and qualities have been attributed to the sword. At least it is not tied down to one hero like Excalibur. Excalibur's power might not even work for another than Arthur, would it?"

He dismissed her question. "Both swords have been in magical hands." She so hoped Mab had done something to Krisler to make it win. But perhaps the Lady could undo or overrule such magic? What had she done to Excalibur in its lost years? "The same counts for the swords we carry." he continued. Did he want her to fight? To cross swords with her? "The strongest or most deserving warrior doesn't necessarily win. The power a sword holds makes a fight all the more unfair. Most magical weapons win regardless of who holds it. My Lady has always been very careful of who she entrusts with such power, yours isn't. She just wants to win. Imagine a weapon with the supernatural power that in one to one combat it would kill the one destined to be king."

"But he couldn't be because he's dead!"

"Too bad then."

"Now you are joking."

"Yes."

"This is a waste.

Excalibur will win, we both know it. Your Lady had the means to solve everything all this time. She held the victory of this battle in her hands the entire time. Who has Excalibur gets the kingdom."

"She does not care for the outcome of this battle."

"But Excalibur will decide..."

"No one in the land is deserving of Excalibur. It has been stripped of its magical qualities. It is a symbol nothing more. This is as it should be. "

"So the legend is worthless. You made it lose everything it stands for!"

"There is no more magic, Syrinx."

She was overwhelmed by the disgraced feeling of not wanting them to fight for her like this. They were both severely injured by each other's hand. At least death by magic tended to come swift. A fair fight could have a far more gruesome outcome.

Both brothers may have made a good king, though neither would have been the champion queen Mab wished and deserved. She had tried to win them over despite this. The brothers' fate was cruel and tragic. No good ruler could come out of it. Since Edward's beliefs could not be changed, she would have to break something essential in the Christian to make him useful to her. The godless brother she could have complete control over which would be achieved by him betraying his brother. He might not ever believe in the pagan ways at heart but his allegiance on a rational level would serve almost as well. In both cases Syrinx deduced she would have broken what strength they had and promise they held of themselves. The one who survived would still serve some purpose to her queen. It was true that Mab had destroyed them in forcing them into this game of chance, the killing of ones closest kin.

Between strokes both brothers would look upon the hill when they could afford to or sometimes when they could not and consequently paid for it by a mean cut to the flesh. "They know I am here."

"Your presence makes them fight harder."

"I know." She would have none of it. "They both want to save me from the other."

The situation created by her queen. Having to save the girl helps a man fall in love. And she would either enjoy being saved or feel guilted into love by it. Mab had misjudged them all.

"I don't need saving! I have to stop them. "

"Let it run its course."

"I can slay my own dragons." Of course, dear, she imagined Mab say, I learned you how. They don't have to know that.

"There are no more dragons. Only men, weapons and death. "

She had left his side.

Syrinx rode to princes. It was far too great a distraction for Elgar to watch her come near. His arms, legs and sword rendered motionless. She felt the tension grow with every painfully slow step her horse took. He could not tear her eyes from her, which perhaps proved him the most enamored with her and certainly the poorest faithful fool. Halfway down the hill the faint possibility of inspiring them to make a deal to stop their fighting shattered as Mab's would be champion buckled to his knees. A sword plunged through him.

The knight watched her go with little hesitation to the remaining prince, her future. The knight fleetingly entertained the thought that she had decided power was more important than self-respect and would negotiate the possibility of marriage. Edward had won the crown and her.

His had been a desperate act. Death was not the solution he had wanted either. He withdrew the bloodied sword from his brother's body with trembling hands. Syrinx' skillful sword master had been bested at his play. Excalibur had won as he tends to do. Prince Elgar had fallen in an instant. She never believed he would make a good champion. Mab had not believed her. It didn't matter now. He was dead. The prince cried over his brother. He blamed Syrinx no doubt and justly so. It was her fault that his brother turned mad. He had to kill him because there was no reason left in him.

An anger no one could not express in words was contorting all of his face. Insufficient sentences left his mouth of their own accord. "What did you do to make him like this?! He had no interest in the crown before suddenly you showed up." His eyes blazed. "I have offended you. And your kind does not take offence kindly. I assaulted you. I was so ashamed of myself. I did not dare talk to you. No more. Would I have done anything to make up what I did to you? You told me nothing. What would you have me do? But this. This punishment. You outdid my crime by leagues."

She silenced him to save him from the ruin of his own words.

"I may not have an army of my own, but I will take the crown and the swords. "

'I adore you.' His eyes said. Strengthened by the passion of war his eyes consumed her fae figure. His mouth replied. "I will never make you my wife."

"I didn't say in which order. I don't want you to wed me." She strode self-assuredly further down the hill. She knew what she must be. Mab said they fear strong women. Make it your advantage. Think of Morgan Le Fay in the stories. When I knew her, the real Morgan, she was a sniveling wench. They made her into a mistress of darkness, into me. Syrinx felt what she was. She did not have to act. She was thé lady. A disarming silence had fallen. They saw the lady from their stories and dreams. Heartless, virtuous, beautiful, merciless. The prize, but that she wasn't. Her hand rested on her sword.

Prince Butterfy, who would have pinned her to a wall, was practically sobbing before her. In spirit, not in body, for he had turned completely empty. He had no strength left to hurt her. She was sorry for him. She could afford being sorry for him now that she would never be his.

"Come here, lady, and see what you have done." His husky voice barely carried to her ears. There was no feeling to him. Emotions had left him as much as they had left her. "Have you not kissed those lips?" Though his face was turned towards her as if he was watching her still, there was no light left in Elgar. She watched the dead lips. Her first kiss could not be seen on them. It had never happened.

She could never have wed the man Mab had selected for her. A man who had never seemed real to her. Even aided by Mab's magic a happy marriage would not have been possible, to him, his brother, the lord or any man at court.

This fight was not real. This death did not carry meaning. It was not like the battles Mab told her about. These men were not the characters that had appealed to her since childhood. Those characters were valiant, noble, exactly like the princes and just as unreal. She realized those heroes were not themselves either. They were not the appeal.

What had given them life were the words from Mab's lips. The words which conjured the characters, the images, the stories, the world, no. She could not remember exact words. She remembered images, feelings.

It weren't the words. It's weren't the colours. Not even the bravery.

It was her.

All that was real was Mab.

Out here no one fought for her. They fought for themselves, their friends, their kin, some desperate souls who had lost all else to fight for fought for their king. When reality is this hard you fight for something real.

Not for Mab. She was only a story.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Everyone I ever loved and who ever loved me all gone all gone down …

He had not meant her. He kept telling himself he had not meant her. He took another sip of his ale. An ordinary middle-aged man sitting in an inn. That was all he was now. A traveler, lost, wandering through the world not knowing where he is going. He did not care enough to. He had known the hardships of life, now he could live anywhere. The moment he had walked out of Camelot's castle the shroud of wizard had fallen off him. He had lost his purpose. The purpose he was born into and the one he had put on himself. His vengeance was complete. It left him hollow. His life no longer held any meaning to him. He sat, he drank, he waited. He did not know what he waited for. His love was lost. The world could go further down its own path. He was tired of interfering. Mere hours had passed since Mab's defeat. Never had he changed so much in a few hours. From hero to tramp.

He was drinking in some rural pub. He didn't have money for a meal. He didn't crave food. Frik must be doing the same at this moment, he thought, not quite enjoying his rueful victory drink. He wondered if he would ever see the gnome again. A small number of days later he realized he missed Frik. He did not miss his personality nor his endless aimless chatter. No, he told himself, Merlin should not judge. He did not judge. He stood above that. He was a wizard. Had been a wizard. It would be better to plainly admit that in a way he liked Frik, the whole of Frik, even his annoying quirks. He did miss him. He missed magic. He missed love. Merlin crouched down over his drink to keep himself safe from gloomy thoughts. Most of all he missed Nimue. She could make such doubts disappear from his mind with a single smile.

You have rid the world of her evil. Yes, I have and at a terrible cost.

He could not comfort himself. He could not pretend she was there.

In his mind he heard Frik's voice talk of vengeance to him. "Part of her still survives. In you. Her magic and evil are not gone yet."

She was your mother, a childlike voice in Merlin replied. A voice he did not know he had. You killed her. And he remembered the softer, maybe even affectionate tone of voice in which she had threatened him.

He remembered seeing her cry. Never did he see any tears fall from her eyes. But she did cry when she looked at her own world and the human world. You never heeded this. Only now I see. Now that our fight is over and I have no more purpose to hate.

No purpose, except for Nimue. My sweet forever lost to me. Because of her.

Queen Mab had been forgotten, but she was not ready to leave his thoughts just yet. She had given him a purpose, he reminded himself, she had wanted him to forget about everything human in him and all the suffering she had caused to those he cared about. It was all meaningless now. It had never happened. He had been no more than a tool to her. Someone to bring her back into power. While Nimue had loved the human part of him. Nimue loved him for who he truly was.

I saw her lie as well, he remembered. Not with words, never with words. She lied to everyone. She lied to herself too every desperate moment of existence. She convinced herself that she could still survive with such passion, such fury it made nations fall to ruin.

Now he saw, too late, that she did care. For him possibly, for her people now gone.

He talks to them, to the air and the flowers where the fairies no longer are. He thought, perhaps he could bring them back. He knows that is a lie.

A mad man lives in the woods. That is what people from the village tell their children. Beware of the fairy man. They were right. The mad man mutters to himself. He walks the shore, the woods, the mountains. He screams at the sky. Expecting it to return whispers, pleads, commands or a fatal stroke of lightning to him. He talks to the stones he finds on his way. He takes some of them home. He calls them Mab. He calls everything Mab. Every fragment of nature, fate, mortality. He likes living in seclusion. He has done so for many years in his life. It left him troubled now. No longer could he trust his thoughts. It was a curse to be alone with himself. The silence of the woods does not easy his temper anymore. What used to give him peace empowered his inner pain.

Merlin knelt down. His heart too heavy to speak, and why should he? He had no one to talk to. She did not answer. She would already have if there was but a small trace of her left.

He stayed in his hut, in Ambrosia's hut. He had been happy there. He had been raised there. It also allowed him to stay nearby to where her land had once been. He had erased Faerie with his mind but was unable to turn away from it physically. That was, he imagined, much like what Ambrosia would have felt those many years ago when she turned away from the Old Ways but still decided to live here.

Her magic faded. He could feel the magic she had bestowed on him flow out of his veins.

He often stood outside his hut. He half expected her to appear out of the mist and maybe just maybe take him away with her. He saw night was coming for him too. He would not stop it. Every day was the same. Every day took him farther away from the memory of her. Of Nimue. He went inside. He put his cane down. He should be thinking about Nimue. How he missed her. Those wonderful moments shared in the cave. Where they wallowed in her magic. How bitter sweet it had been. His bones ached as he laid himself down to sleep. He felt so very old. Although the stars told him not even a month had passed since his heroic deed, his crime.

Merlin died that night.

And that was the end of magic.

He woke to find that life had not left him. However all that held meaning to him would remain lost for what he believed to be and experienced as forever. He did not use the shimmer of magic left within him. Most of his current life he did not even notice its presence. In this long time his body grew old to suit his mind, he expected. Then Nimue was released. Fate, in the form of Frik, brought her back to his arms. They lived out their lives in bliss. Even so his own words would never stop haunting him. I'm a wizard trickery is my business. Mab's defeat had been a trick. He had spent his entire life learning that specific trick. Tricks had been an important reason for his dislike of magic. None of it was real. He had taken the trickery called magic and erased what was true.


	17. The Prince

The Prince

Aka Chivalry is Dead. Part 1.

Behold your Christmas present. :D

Once again it has been a long time since I updated. I was going to post a Mab chapter first, then two of Syrinx'. I am posting the Syrinx' ones first now. This way we have everything on the battle neatly together. Later on you can skip these two chapters to 'the Father', read that one and go back to this one to read it in the intended order. It won't make a real difference. Seems that I just don't really believe in chronology.

Now we are getting to the interesting parts. :)

My sincerest apologies to sentences and ideas that may get overlooked in my finalizing of this story's chapters. I see no other way of finishing this story than posting a somewhat draftier version.

Syrinx dismounted her horse. She was called by the now lamenting song of battle or only to the mystery in seeing people in unknown suffering.

She did not let her hand stray from her sword's hilt.

The prince who had won, a sad prince indeed this courageous victor. He was the prince who would have taken her maidenhead, that is how the courtiers called virginity, in a drunken urge that night at the feast and for that she could not pity him. She did not fear nor rejoice in his victory. His victory was made of loss. Syrinx dismounted her horse, left it to its own business halfway down the hill to take a better look at the victor prince. The as yet to be crowned butterfly-king, the mere human. She would speak of their story and make certain he went into history by that name. However he behaved from now on. Good king or bad, defined solely by his position to the Old Ways. His tears alone indicated he could be made of nobler things.

His greed for the kingdom and his greed for Syrinx herself had cost her her wings. His wings had been taken by his brother's death. Now they were both ugly butterflies. She need not fear him anymore.

Syrinx stood still before him. She was the Belle Dame. She was Mab's sword, to skewer Camelot upon.

There were already on a comfortable level of mutual understanding here: he would not marry her and she not him. This provided a beginning or an absolute end to negotiations.

The Knight had folded behind her, her unappointed protector.

"Fair husband," she said in jest, unable to prevent herself. What a pretty sight you make, she could not speak a lie. He was to be pitied. For a moment she wished there was any other lord or lady standing before him in her place. One who would give him the mercy he probably deserved.

"I will have your sword now." She demanded power and knelt down to take his brother's sword as well.

"You are welcome to have this cursed piece of pagan filth you gave him."

"Krisler." It deserved to have its name spoken. It had been a good sword before this death. Edward's bloody hands slipped on his own sword as he attempted to take Excalibur out of its scabbard. With a soft hand on her shoulder the Knight stopped Syrinx's start to approach the prince. Warningly he said "Let him give Excalibur to you himself or he will have your hand." The Knight did not object to her wish. Letting Excalibur fall into Queen Mab's hands could not possibly be according to his orders.

The prince could give her what she asked for. He denounced Excalibur too. It was worth nothing to Camelot anymore. Since it was soiled with his brother's blood. Her demands angered him, he held onto the sword in the lustreless hope of killing her.

Syrinx watched the prince cradle his fallen brother. He did not want to inhale another thought on her. "I made this happen." Syrinx proclaimed coldly "You mustn't blame yourself." "I am defenseless and I still hold my sword. My spirit is broken because I've slain my brother! For you." His words were void of strength. However much he wanted to attack, he could not. His purpose was gone. He would die, he felt, by his own sword by this girl.

"You can let the sword go.", said the Knight in a warrior's voice. One trusted, once defeated as well. The prince understood him. In ways that he could not hear Syrinx, was not prepared to hear Syrinx. The Knight stood firm by her side. His eyes fixed on the battlefield on guard for anyone who may come upon this scene.

"You did well, prince Edward. You would have made a good king. If it were not for your chosen religion."

"You made me do, Lady, forced my hand. Reforged me into something I don't know. I don't know how, such a little girl.

You made me do it, made this insanity come over me and my brother.

An insanity that shouldn't be talked about here and now. It doesn't deserve to be. Its unnaturalness. It defiles this moment of my brother's death! Your presence does. I will always hate…" He struggled on the word as a child clean of conscious would, and new to this emotion surprised by it, caught in it as a fly in a web, he said it for the first time in his life. "how my jealousy and how you pagan maid are entwined with his death! If I could curse you, if God would hear such a thing, if curses were not an unholy thing, strange to God's grace. I would curse you to hell."

She knelt down and embraced him, merciful after all. Might slumbered in his tensed arm, it pulsated through his muscles, burning to hit her. He slapped her away. The prince grabbed her hand. Her side was drawn over his blade. It cut through her dress, nicked her skin. It did not hurt. The Knight drew her back, out of the prince's skilled grasp.

The prince looked into her narrowed eyes. "You couldn't both survive. You knew this when you set out to war on each other."

"His death had to be." She told him, to ease his suffering and to convince herself of her own desperate hopes.

"Some higher power willed it so?" His mouth formed something resembling a snarl.

"No, she willed it differently but failed."

"Has the wrong one won?" he muttered.

She would have to make do with a Christian king.

"Perhaps not if you reinstall the Old Ways." She drew the sword gently from his hands.

"Never." He would have all the people hate her, her and her religion, when he came to power. She could not let that happen. This king was forever lost to the Old Way.

"I am sorry, Prince Butterfly." The nickname eluded him, did not interest him, understandably so in these dire circumstances. These negotiations were proving unfruitful.

She strapped both swords now in her possession to her mere's saddle.

"Will you ride with us?" she asked the prince, to create a truce between them. It was meant to tell him that she did not wish him dead. "We can talk about the kingdom."

"Your views for the land would not stroke with mine."

"We'll see."

Syrinx was no ruler, but Queen Mab was and she would guide her.

The prince-brothers had played most cruelly and in the end to no end at all. They had been blinded by her, by Mab and by each other's rage.

Syrinx turned to her horse. "Fetch a horse or walk beside us."

"We will ride back to Camelot." The Knight suggested. "And plan there."

"We will see what can be done. I don't like this bloodshed."

He was king now, according to law, battled for and won, by unhonourable chivalry achieved, but he would never officially rule.

She would see to that. She could save him but then Mab's plan was ruined.

"I banish you."

"You are not crowned yet."

"My brother is dead!" he cried in despair, in a despair so deep that it had dulled all emotion from his voice. Syrinx heard him, as in her mind, she registered the sentence and nodded in agreement with the thought as she tightened the leather straps on both swords more securely. A flash of movement had her look back at the prince. He was standing up, sped closely to her. His intent clear in the dagger-shine of his uplifted arm. What stopped him in his execution was a blade to his neck. The Knight had drawn his sword in the girl's defence. She certainly should not have come to war in her dress alone. All the others who could afford it, the princes, the Knight were clad in armour. Did she really believe fae appearance would make her invulnerable?

"Sheath your weapon." The Knight said, the prince didn't.

"You would do well to let the maiden go. The spell she holds on you will shortly fade and disappear into nothing. This day is over. Return to your Camelot, your majesty, and live for tomorrow."

The prince's eyes burned into Syrinx' small frame. In this position he could be made to speak or listen or to never do either again.

"Syrinx. I wished to marry you the moment I saw you. There was no problem, no reason to cast a spell. I would have you, there was no impediment once I became king. Your engagement to another, lower in standing to myself, would have been made obsolete. Our dear advisor would have stepped down for me."

"I promise you your feelings for me will cease." She understated the intensity of his feelings, to hide them for herself, to spare herself from them, he took her words as an insult. The Knight looked at Syrinx. The girl's eyes were large and transfixed upon the prince she could barely speak to strengthen the Knight's promise. "It was but a spell placed on you and your brother."

"My brother, he should never have desired you. I was to wed him as soon as I was crowned. We had agreed upon this months ago.

"To whom?" Syrinx' whisper barely found air.

"His sweetheart, Elodine, a working girl in the nearby town, a lady at heart. He loved her. Father would not have approved, as Elgar" The name was hard to say. " did not tell him, father only had his absences to disapprove of."

"He left her for me." Syrinx disliked the banality of her words.

"Yes, she was heartbroken. She…"

"Was she pregnant?"

"If she was it did not show." He growled the words as though they were stones in his mouth to grind.

"She killed herself."

I am sorry, no, she could not speak.

"It left my brother cold. Excalibur will have its revenge on you. If I fail, someone else will rise up and carry out my revenge on you. "

"Yes, a magical sword would know when it was used for ill and who was responsible. I imagine it would burn me to ash should I touch it. Excalibur, sadly, is not a magic sword anymore." The Knight gave a warning look, Syrinx carried on. In this moment she did not care for any of them. "The sword's power is an illusion. It is your faith in the sword and your own hand that made you victorious. You did not win because the great sword of Camelot willed it so and made you king.

Excalibur, the most sacred symbol in our history is not real. That being said, I am taking it with me as you no longer want it and you were never supposed to have it in the first place." She glanced at the Knight. Why did you give the Christian the Christian sword if it had no power to ensure his victory? A Christian sword by its king's reputation, perhaps not by origin. Why? To encourage him further to go to battle.

"Lady," This was the Knight, standing clandestinely by her side, speaking to her, his sword in his grip and his eyes not leaving those of the statuesque still-dagger armed prince.

"He will not go with us." Indeed, Syrinx had to agree with the Knight. He did not look inclined to accompany them. His teeth and fingers clenched. "We can't take him…" she whispered, to herself.

"You will die."

"He will kill me for his brother." Why had she tried to reason with him? He would strike her as soon as he could, before they reached Camelot. He would have struck her a moment ago. He would not wait for her when he was crowned and put her to a trial. His life then, she had to accept, was lost.

"If you would close your eyes." She did not.

The Knight nobly addressed the prince. "Accept this with what honour you have left."

She witnessed the strong, wide, too swift to be true swing of the Knight's blade. It slit through armour. Unmistakably there was one more magic sword on this battlefield. Besides the one Mab had given her.

The body fell to the ground, the head rolled beside it.

"You are her assassin then." she stated.

The Knight shrugged. Her eyes left the horror before them to fix upon him.

"Perhaps."

"Your lady wanted both princes to die."

"I don't know. She does not speak of such things. It is possible. But as I told you before she does not care for mortal affairs. The land will figure itself out."

Syrinx knelt down to the bloodstained grass. She gathered the severed hear into her skirt. Not caring if she caught a look at the face of death or not.

Her gaze lingered some paces away, where the other prince lay. His corpse was the most important to her mistress. As instructed to do so by her silent command the Knight stepped forward and raised his sword about to behead this corpse too for travelling comfort.

"Please, don't."

He tucked his sword in its scabbard. He lifted the body, incredibly she watched. Apart from the weight alone of body and full armour a dead man has no coherent movement of bones and muscles. Without a soul it flaps about. Knocked out or asleep a human, or other living being, is still bound together with its form. This was monstrous to behold. Yet the Knight handled the sacky object with iron strength and expertise. He lay Elgar to rest over his horse.

Syrinx watched him.

"You have matured."

"So have you." He gallantly helped her mount her mere, the head wrapped in her skirt and held in a hand.

Her injury pulled a bit on her as she stretched and sat down.

He looked her up from the waist. "How is your cut?"

"It's small. I would like to wash it when we pass some water and clean the…" She gestured to her lap, indicating the head. "too, before we present it to Mab. I would have liked to do that before I wrapped it in my skirt. She has to see what happened."

"By carrying the corpses to her? Syrinx, your haste is getting the best of you. She would believe your word just as well." He rested a hand on her arm and watched her confusion. "She has ways of seeing this, as does my Lady. What we have to do is show the bodies to the warriors in the valley. They have to be shown the fight is over. Once they see this, the war will end at once, like magic. It will be a sight to behold."

Syrinx thoughts dwelled on whether they could have left prince Edward there alive, conscious or not, at the foot of the hill and ride away too fast for him to pursue. She soon saw the folly of this plan. He would have returned to his men and hunted her down for the rest of his reign.

"You should not go rushing back to her. There can be done more for our mistresses from Camelot." Silence of stubbornness.

They rode away side by side from this secluded slope, careful of their extra burden.

It was a strange thing to ask as a girl to a man.

Syrinx felt she had to. As they were both human servants in a magic world. "Does the Lady treat you well?"

"As well as one can who is not human herself. It is her nature to help and provide what you are in want of. She is quick to spot unhappiness but unable to read it, so she will ask. "

"Like Mab?"

"Unlike Mab. She is less human than your mistress. Perhaps that is why she understands mortals better and cares for them the way she does, detachedly. She sees the good in them."

"Queen Mab cares for me too."

"Your Mab yearns for power. Her need to feel affection from others overrules her ability to partake in the emotion herself."

"She may not be particularly caring…."

"But perhaps you are right and she cares about some mortals. While her sister cares for everyone. The fact is that your mistress sees humans in function of their utility. That is her nature and a rather malevolent mortal trait of hers."

"She doesn't drown people." Syrinx scowled.

"Evidently, I did not drown."

You'd never know, Syrinx' look said. You could have died and her magic brought you back, as her creature.

"Those worthy become my Lady's champion. She does not take champions to wage war. I was chosen for my dreams of knighthood and justice. I am her agent in the human world and I am her company."

"Company?"

"Yes."

"You serve her?"

"Yes."

"With all of you? Or is what you feel for her an ideal courtly love?"

"I admire her. The Lady has no such needs as to which you refer. I asked her when I first came into her service." He cleared his throat to put his bruised ego aside. "Opposed to your mistress."

They were predestined. The Priestess and the Knight.

Warriors stopped and stared where they rode by. Magnificent in their roles.

A heathen priestess and a Christian knight. They could tell these facts from the clothes they wore, her dress, and the symbols on his self chosen armour.

Some bowed. Cumbered by personal injury and grief they paid their respect and admiration to this otherworldly pair. Syrinx glanced at her riding companion.

Murderer, knight, warrior, synonyms after all.

The humans covered in a bloody mess, noble underneath. Partners and enemies beside one another.

The battle had died out in most places. As the Knight had said and Syrinx had questioned they were indeed unmotivated and empty without the princes present. Somewhere during their absence the battle had blown over, victourless and turned into a gathering, a mending of those fallen.

Where the fight was raging out. It ceased completely as they passed and their cargo was spotted. Looking down over all these sould, Syrinx came to terms with her total indifference to other people's harm in this war for as long as Mab's life was being threatened. Past that too to all likeliness. As long as there was a concept Mab in her mind.

She saw the dragonbanners, lances and halberds of Camelot sparsely covering the field torn and broken on the grass or used as someone's cane and further on many more proud upright in the ground or in a knight's hand. Where the wounded and surviving marched to. There lay their destination. A camp of sorts, she detected from this distance, the gathering point in this aftermath. An uneven square of Camelot's red, these were the banners of Edward's loyals. The traditional Arthurian shields, equipment, armours, flags. The red a remnant of Arthur's father's, King Uther's, the dragon crest. The other brother's followers had repainted said icon black.

A dragon, no more dragons, Syrinx thought on what the Knight had said, no more magic.

Don't leave, Queen Mab.

Syrinx had noticed too, how could she not, the imaged encarved and painted on weapons and shields that were both pagan and Christian. A unifying blend. Let the origin of Mab's symbols not be forgotten.

Blood tickled down her thighs, having seeped through the cloth of her dress. She had not noticed how heavy and sticky with blood her lap had become. Blood shed by her actions, by her queen. She urged her mere on, through the mud and the unruly forlorn crowd.

She would rather focus on the ticklings and swamping of blood and mud than witness the true horror. A skirt made into a pouch holding a dead person's head.

"Do not look so frightful, young Salome.

It has been separated from the body, it will not talk to scold you. You look so afraid of the head in your lap. The dead do not come back. It can't hurt you now. "

She had watched the vicinity for a place to wash the head in without success. The swampy battle ground was drenched in small puddles of mud and blood. At times she expected to catch a glimpse in the water, a message of the Lady to her Knight or one of Mab that the Lady intended to show her as a reminder to hurry up and save her mistress. She would. She would handle this and empower her mistress. She would do whatever it took.

No such thing happened, no more magic.

Was her own sword still magical? She checked, she did not hold an empty scabbard, at least it held its form. They ran with magic. Her horse was magic. So was the Knight's or it could not have looked this impressive next to her own. It made sense that the last magical being would be attracted to its mistresses Queen Mab and the Lady. It was a miracle these horses lived. Should the last of magic die, Syrinx hoped not soon, would their shining horses die? Suddenly buckle beneath them, disappear? Perhaps they would turn into regular horses. No more magic, except for two swords and two horses entrusted to them by goddesses. There is no more magic. The Knight had told Syrinx this before and later to the prince as well in his case as a reassurance and promise to him.

Could she give her sword's magic back to Mab? Once the fight was over, she pledged she would do so. Her live may still depend upon it now. The mere's magic was not hers to give. She could not return that to strengthen her mistress.

One carrying a corpse the other a blundled head in her lap. What a serene barbaric picture they must be.

A woman on horseback, her hair blowing around her not even braided for battle. Her dress and self covered in dust and filth, the foolish conduct of fae to come here looking like this. How different she would be greeted by these men had she been on her own, no horse or knight to escort her, a bloodied wench carrying the head of their beloved prince and the news of his brother's dead. They would have killed her on the spot. As she came from the hill where they had both been, she had to be responsible.

However, none would touch the elevated mystical beings riding amongst them at present.

They must have seen them before, looking down from the hill onto the battlefield, more precisely to the spot where the princes were battling out of sight. They had descended to take the result home to bring the message and mercifully end the war. These higher beings served fate and surely they had not had a hand in the outcome. They were blameless, by appearance. By having a horse and proud faces. The unfairness struck Syrinx, but she did not care. She was what she had to be. They would go into legend. She did not care what they did with the head afterwards. Her King's sacrifice could be balmed and hoisted up a wall to revolting primitive Celtic tradition or buried with dignity with the retrieved body they would be certain to find and his brother, would he be treated as a traitor or a prince?

She looked in front of her, not to the Knight. She knew what he looked like in this moment, just like her. Statuesque, he was the empty husk and the paragon of a knight of old. He was the embodiment of the loyalties that he strived for. The ideal made flesh. He was incredible to others, but real to her. She understood him. The dreams and hopes that were his very being. They were reflected in his bearing. This is what drew people to admire him as they did her.

She saw herself in him. The other warriors on this field bemused her. The countless nameless brave warriors here who had endured much more than Syrinx or the Knight yet looked up to them for guidance and a taste of their splendor. They would, hopefully for Syrinx's mistress, talk about this for many years to come. They did not see the emptiness of this display. It was a moment of great meaning. The moment the odd couple appeared carrying the bodies of their kings. A ceremony befitting kings in Arthur's tradition. Had they come out of Faerie, to overthrow human rule and rule the land.

This Knight only fought when he had to. His way was decisive, practiced, exemplary. He did not know the true cost of war. Not even riding through it from his high horse, for he did not partake in it. He was oblivious. Battle was not why he was a knight. The ideals were his reason, and keeping those alive with his people. He was not like these warriors. They came to pay him respects. Again people bowed, showed admiration. While the exaltation should be going the other way around. Syrinx heard them speculate over the meaning behind the religions traveling side by side. There was hope that this was a symbol to show them that the pagan and Christian faith could be reconciled. This symbol was riding to teach this lesson to the new ruler.

Some must have recognized Syrinx and even the Knight from the spectacle at Camelot castle but most did not. All marveled at their presence, at how tangible these fabled appearances looed.

They were representations of ideals, no more than that. They shone. The land would want to reform itself to their image. Mab, can you see this?

She was Priestess. She breathed magic. None here would deny her being a sorceress. Though she possessed no real magic of which to speak. She did not know to perform rituals and prayers. Only how to pray for herself, every time with different words and incantations partly stolen from books or simply expressing her own thoughts. She excelled in believing as she felt it should be. They knew that power in her on sight. She wondered, if it came to that and it should for Mab's sake be that way, how she would lead these people in Camelot in prayer and mystics. She knew she could do that.

She had no grasp on politics. If she had to rule, she could leave that to Mab. Marriage, that was another thing, she could not do.

Here she was heading for where most likely the next person in power could be found.

As she rode across the battlefield head lifted in the wind, she almost heard, or thought she almost heard, Mab's voice calling her. Laced into all the noise, the clatter, the wind, the water and dirt being trampled in loud splashing by their horses. No words to recognize, the sound almost… human. A sign of weakness that must be, for her.

Riding through the camp she picked up whispers. Through a monstrous Medusa head on a shield -its lips parting with great effort almost unnoticeable. Traces of a voice in the air. Her mistress was reaching for power to contact and instruct her, not succeeding. A wisp of a final cry. Then Mab felt completely absent from the earth.

The Knight's Lady had promised to take care of her. Syrinx had to pin every hope on this now. Mab would not die. The fae can't break their word, how she hoped that to be true of all gods of magic. She did not know where the Lady fit in. The Knight said she cared for her sister. She wished she could be back already.


	18. The Lord

The Lord

Aka Chivalry is Dead part 2

Another part without Mab. Quick, unnecessary recap: This takes place just after the battle, both princes died. Syrinx and the Knight ride off in search of the one next in power: the Lord she was promised to. Enjoy.

"My betrothed, where is he?" Syrinx quickly dismounted her horse. The bloody head rolled from her lap and was caught by one of the squires who immediately wished he had not.

"Inside." a warrior spoke, his mouth lolling like the dead man's. The soaky stain in her dress clung to her thighs in the cold windy march to the tent. The purple fabric flowing in the wind. The Knight was helped in carrying the body of the severed head's brother from his horse to a stretcher for the wounded where it and the head were put on display for the ever growing crowd.

By the time this was done Syrinx was longsince inside the main tent. Having heard the upheaval outside the Lord Advisor had run into the wayward girl at the entrance to this, his tent.

"My lord…"

"Lady Syrinx, come in, leave the formalities behind. This is not the time nor place." He took a look at the crowd.

"Come, I will tell you everything you need to know." The Lord obliged her wish and let her enter.

The guards closed the tent curtains behind them.

In her last breath of outside air she asked Queen Mab to be with her. Somehow she knew Mab did not hear her, for once did not feel her, was not there at all. She was not even a whisper anymore.

"We have much to discuss and don't have much time." I wish to be making my way back to… Faerie.

"I expected to see you again in the company of the victor."

"Yes" she said bitterly, "I brought two corpses instead."

"Please you stand there so lost, sit down. I can help you to a drink. I only have mead to offer, I fear. The spiced wines, the ladies prefer are kept in Camelot for use during the unpredictable aftermath of this battle."

She sat down and he took her hand.

Syrinx felt suddenly aware of the princes outside, which she had made into ghosts of her fear. Her fear of someone coming close to her and being dragged away from Queen Mab and all she believed in.

"They were good men." said the Lord. He seemed to think better of her than she did. She could not pretend she hadn't known from the start one or both would die. He put a cup down before her. His compassion was not what she had expected. She felt herself crawl away from her own horrific expectations. He put his arm around her. This felt safe.

She had not expected to be met with comfort and a drink, nor to be treated as an adult, in spite of arriving here on such a grim occasion. Not being accused right away for all of this land's mishaps, made her feel queasy.

She had expected close contact this soon, a different kind of it. The present relief was tearing her apart.

"Whom do you serve?" he asked, she replied "A mistress without mercy."

Syrinx sternly straightened herself. "I have come here to negotiate."

"You were summoned to Camelot by your father. You were to stay there by order of him in the company of your future husband."

"I come and go as I please. I am here on behalf of the Old Ways. "

He gave her a questioning look. She continued. "If we are to wed you must pledge to protect the ancient pagan beliefs."

"What do those matter to you? It is something for the old and fearful."

"You must!"

"I thought you were raised in a proper Christian manner."

Her voice turned almost melancholic: "I was." Her tone shifted. "My lord, you have to allow the pagan faith back. Too many lives depend upon it." He interrupted. "A unified religion keeps the people loyal to the crown."

"You will be king. All else has failed. We will talk soon again." She offered him a courteous kiss on the cheek as goodbye. His hands grasped her upperarms, hard. A second and third kiss. She drew back. He did not let her go.

"Such innocence you show. A lovely mask. Take it off for me, or I swear, I shall break it. " The Lord pressed her against the wall, observing her features. Her gaze turned to ice. "How pretty you are now. " He muttered." Now tell me why you are here. Whom do you serve, surely not your father? "

"Queen Mab of the Old Ways." She hisses proudly. Her lips promising him things she was not consciously aware of. He chuckled. "That fairy queen you spoke of. The same pagan goddess I was instructed to make the people forget about. Yet I myself could not. I have seen her in the forest in my youth. Your appearance here reminded me of her. That dress " She was wearing a dress her Queen had given her, one resembling the one she had worn when she first arrived in Camelot. It was however distinctly otherworldy, undeniably elflike, in design and did not hide the source of its making, as the other dress had, with more human influences. In her hastily depart from Camelot she had not taken her court dresses with her to the Land of Magic. He grabbed her clothes, by the waist. Caressed her back, her shoulder.

"Let go."

"You smell as I imagined she would. The fire of raw magic and stones.

Your mistress is desperate, do you think you can negotiate?"

His face expressed something she could not imagine, what he would do, to Mab. The thought of her lovely lips on him made her sick. "Your bargain is with me, it will not extend to my mistress."

He pulled her long hair, forcing her head back. "You have been given as a replacement. I will take you. Though you will not suffice." He was breathing heavily in her neck. Hot tears ran down her cheeks. She no longer heard what he said.

She didn't want to hear his words. If the priest had not gone missing they would already have been married. He wanted what he was entitled to, this was her greatest fear when facing the Lord. She prayed to Queen Mab. Desperately asking her help. If only she had some magic. If only she could. His greedy eyes were on her pale skin. Frustrated not to find it as flawless as he had expected. "Queen Mab! " She cried, her words almost incomprehensible. For a moment, a few moments, she believed her mistress would not come. After all she had wished an interest would be taken in the girl and by extend maybe, she had implicitly wished such an assault would happen.

A flash of lightening cracked through the room and her mistress appeared with it. Despite the girl's pains of seeing the best in him, she could have felt nothing but disdain, had he instantly groveled on the floor before Queen Mab's feet, in worship. He did not look up again. This was an image that stood out clearly in her mind. She watched her expectations play out.

She had not been aware that she had envisioned this scene in some back twisted corner of her mind, during her ride with the Knight or before that, to such detail. Dreading the meeting to the core. So clashingly different. She felt guilty for what she had thought of him. That made her sad now with her drink and his willingness to listen, it had been harsh.

In her imagination Mab would have saved her. Contrary to seeing her plans fulfilled. She acted against her benefit, completely unrealistic.

Mab was not here to help her, she would have to save herself.

He looked intensely at her. "You have to understand why your father wanted this."

Syrinx mumbled "I do understand," She did not lift her head. "but he was wrong."

"He wanted you to be safe, to have someone you can trust, someone he trusts by your side, looking over you."

"I am grateful for that, sir."

No, she was not. She hadn't thought of it at all.

Syrinx was still looking down, not at her drink, although her eyes were fixed there for a long time. She looked up defeated.

"Will you still marry me?"

"Yes."

"Do I look young to you?"

"Do I look old to you?"

"Yes."

"There is your answer."

"You would still…marry me?"

"Yes.

The priest is here now."

"The priest?"

"Yes, your childhood friend and mentor. He arrived at this camp just before you. Your father thought you would prefer him to wed you above any other priest in Camelot."

"That is so." That is why Queen Mab had set up an illusion, to have him lose his way. This way Syrinx would have more unmarried time to win the affections of the princes. The enchantment must have lifted.

When her mistress had said she would speed things up Syrinx had expected the priest to arrive the next day. But there had been no sign of him then yet. What had released him now from fairy thrall? Magic's death?

"Does he seem… disorientated?" She asked carefully. She was afraid, the fae magic, had the priest gone mad?

How little thought she had given to the priest. If Mab had done anything to harm him… it concerned her how she had turned away from her old life so quickly, from him and his beliefs. The old man had been lost for such a long time and this while the journey to Camelot as it was without fairy detours would already have been very taxing to him.

"He is very well."

Everything she needed was gathered in one place. The Lord, her Priest, an unruled kingdom ready for the taking. She could save Mab right now. She felt an immense sadness sweep her away.

"We will ride for Camelot as soon as we can." And she would have to stay there. Forever with her husband-king.

She wanted to elope, run back to Mab.

"You don't have to. Syrinx, you don't have to marry me.

I know what Camelot is to you. You were never really there. You were at the place you had heard about in stories. It, Camelot is not the same as you envision it. I don't believe it would live up to anyone's expectations anymore. Despite our efforts at making the best of it. Your father, the late king and I, we shared your fantasies. We tried to honour them in how the land was ruled. This place, our place wasn't real to you."

Syrinx protested, insulted by his words. She could distinguish fantasy from reality better than the majority of humans can.

He gently took her closer to him.

"Hush, that is okay. Camelot is more magical to you than it is to most others. I loved seeing your love for our city. I loved you, Syrinx, any curses aside. The detached impression you made at court didn't matter to me. I doubt you were ever aware you made such an impression with your studious silences. People aren't real to you unless there is a tale about them that you like. Of course the princes did not meet your expectations. How could they have."

"I didn't… wish them dead."

"Of course not. You liked us well enough."

At what proximity does someone become real?

Was the Lord real, sitting this close to her this very moment. This was a tender, fleeting dream. Not real then, too close for that. Was finding the right distance all she had to do to find an interest in the new people she met? Does distance make them real? Only when they are not there can you really think about them. Memories then, another word for stories, makes them real. But prince Elgar had never been actual to her. Alive or dead. Not the Lord or the Knight. Her father? It was scary to think of him as maybe not real to her. Not loved by her? Prince Edward only seemed real to her the moment when his brother lay dying. When his emotions and words were real. These people, they were stories alone to her.

Superficial and ready to be forgotten. How heartless she was.

And stories, alone, are real for her. People that do not even exist or not anymore. The knights of the Round Table, their allies, their enemies, gnomes, fairies. How was mankind to know what had once been real. Yet to her they all lived. Even the made-up ones.

Queen Mab had always been real to her as nature itself. As a story or a person, far away in Faerie or right next to her, Queen Mab had always felt real.

She looked so afraid.

"Why does nature let her die?" She spoke softly.

The Lord looked threateningly at her, not physically threatening, something threatening in his face.

He may not even be as old as she had believed him to be.

"Be careful. She may take everything you have. I saw how she was to you."

"I am safe with her."

"In a way."

Syrinx thought of the gleeful smile Mab would give her when she did something particularly human.

"The woman I saw you with in the heart of Camelot… She looked…. hardly matters."

"What? What is it?"

"I knew who she was, without believing in her. I thought it over the days after until I had to admit there was no other explanation to what was happening but fae magic.

You seduced me." Syrinx shook her head. He continued. "Queen Mab's magic did too. It was the evening of the feast. I saw prince Edward with you, harassing you. I followed you, I couldn't help myself. When the prince saw me standing there, he left you alone. It was something worse than lust or love that I had seen in him. I had words with him after I caught you. He stayed focused on you and not on the conversation we were having about you being intended for me. I sent him to bed, idiotically, a grown prince, but he had listened to me. The problem is, I knew by having seen him that I was the same. This madness you inflicted on the princes. It possessed me as well.

Prince Edward, he behaved not normally like this. Neither of the princes. It was your Mab who made us so. I was compelled to follow you again. Up the stairs. To your room. To comfort you. In truth I did not know what I was going to do. For in spite of my noble intentions, I may as well have behaved as badly as the prince. This is when I saw you and your Lady … Queen, the Goddess." he said the last word assuredly "She was seeking to comfort you. Then the door closed on me. After this, I coveted her as I did you. The vision I saw that night drove me mad. While I knew it was not my mind's doing."

He took a deep breath.

"Do you know the fountain by the castle?"

"Yes, I know her. She cleansed you of the magic." The logical deduction.

She had cleansed him as she had cleansed the swords.

And why not, her Queen's plan had been going to ruin anyway.

Would one dispelled person be so harmful to the plan?

"She could have done the same to the princes, it would have avoided this mess and bloodshed. She could have cleansed them." "She told me she could not unless they wished it to be gone, like me."

"Of course." said a grumpy Syrinx.

"Your mistress. The moment I saw her, I wanted her. Never let me lay eyes on her again or I shall be a lost man, again."

"She looked…"

"Beautiful." Syrinx nodded.

"Cruel." "Yes."

"Cold." "Yes."

"You should break free from her."

"No."

"Then why are you here?"

"The kingdom has to be sorted."

"The kingdom can go on without you, despite this mess we face." They drank in silence. He noticed her persistent stubbornness.

"You don't see how we could get on without her?"

"We can.

I don't want to leave things unsettled for her, for Mab."

"You don't want to marry an old man, Syrinx."

"Then why did you agree to marrying me? What possessed you to desire such a union?"

"A promise to a dear friend."

"Where can I find the crown of Camelot? In this tent?"

"You hoped so. It is back at Camelot. A new king has to be crowned there."

"Prince Edward, was torn up over what he did to you. He told no one but me, not even a holy man. Their deaths are your doing, you will have to live with that.

Do you hate Christianity?"

Syrinx was taken aback. She erupted a surprised "No."

"Only Christians?"

"No, I love Queen Mab."

Silly girl, in his features she saw this judgement and he was right, she had said those words to herself as well.

"… your queen is older than I will ever be."

"I know." It was different, but it was not that different. Age did not matter to her. It wouldn't have mattered with him either, if she had but cared for him.

His kind blue eyes solemnly fixed upon her.

He sat next to her, a caring arm still around her.

It took her not long to realize that in essence, without Mab's trickery playing upon him, she liked him. This man.

"Will you return to her?"

"But Camelot's future…" she intercepted. "Will you take the power?"

"I will hear the arguments of those who believe to be entitled to the throne. Before someone takes it without agreement and the land is plunged into a new war. I am not a leader, Syrinx. You will have to find another to rule. I will see to it that the right man is on the throne."

"Which brother's side were you on today?"

"I was on no one's side. I waited this insanity out. I waited until the spell's aim, this fight, was past. I came to help the one who survived. I would not stay behind in Camelot. You were their Grail. The ghost image our legendary King chased. It took years to cure him of this folly. They had to chase you the same and eventually see the truth. However long that might take. "

What if the plan had gone wrong and both princes had survived Mab's ploy?

"They are gone. Rule with me."

"Listen to me, my girl, I have an influence and authority but not that of a king. I am an advisor. Like your father. We can counsel, not rule. That is part of our very being. We will wait a month for his return. Those are our laws. We have to wait a month before anything can be decided. Make sure your father returns, Syrinx. No decision can be made without the Duke. After a month missing he is declared dead and his responsibilities are passed onto me."

"Appointing the king."

"Yes."

"Can I mean anything at court?"

"Now, no. Bear in mind, you have spoiled your reputation."

"The king can marry any girl."

"The fact stands that both our princes are dead over you. I believe it was not Queen Mab's intention that it would be known their fight was over a woman. You were the real reason. They fought over possessing you. They made this very clear at court. Everyone knows it. Whoever won this fight would have been as soiled as you are, in the court's eyes. They will blame you completely for what happened here today."

Her role in stories… she would be horridly depicted. Belle Dame sans Merci, had maybe been too kind a hope for how she would pass down into history.

"They would not take me back?"

"Who can tell, courts change rapidly. In my opinion you may always return. You are a lady, more so than all others at court who claim this title. I will do what I can to mend your damaged reputation, where possible. You will always be welcome at Camelot."

She rose silently from her seat and his arms. He had assured her of his good intentions. She could return later to accept or decline his gracious willingness to marry her despite everything. She could leave the land in his hands for now. For Mab.

She looked at him. "You are a good man."

"We will talk on your return."

She smiled, almost, she could not yet after what she had witnessed and done today. She bid him farewell with a soft bow.

He did not escort her out. He remained seated in worries. There had come a pagan goddess into political plays. She had destroyed many certainties and left him with the ruins.

He prayed for his friend to return and for his friend's daughter to be safe.

Syrinx recognized they had lost. She had done what she could, it did not feel like enough by far to save Mab's life. The Lord's shimmer of support. It was more than she could have hoped for. She felt nothing.

Syrinx saw outside the Knight had gone and so had her own fae horse. She had believed he would be standing guard outside the tent, for her protection. Unthinkingly she had come to rely on him. He had taken with him both swift magical horses and both once magical swords that had been strapped onto her horse. She would have given those to Mab.

Chivalry is dead. -Was it ever alive?

Afterword to this chapter: Dear readers, I am aware of the fact that the men in this story, especially those at court have been represented as less than sympathetic. I hope this chapter explains why I had to write them this way and what made them behave as they did, as unlikeable and underdeveloped characters. My apologies to the princes and the Lord. You were okay humans off-screen/paper, I think. Too bad Mab hexed you. Lucky you.


	19. The Father

This part turned out very different in tone than my original sketch for it. And much more elaborate. Perhaps it is because of how long it's been, perhaps it is due to the situation the characters find themselves in. Mab is slightly out of character, but that is kind of the idea. I do hope you will like it. Tell me where it works and where it doesn't.

I have been asked where Syrinx' name comes from, I will clarify this in today's chapter. :)

It took me quite some time to come up with a made up fantasy name that I liked. I heard the word syringe on the tele and thought it was pretty. It sounded familiar. The word I was actually looking for when coming up with the name was Sering, also known as the lilac tree, which can be purple. It looks a lot like a butterfly bush. I have purple and white ones in my garden. In Victorian times these flowers represented first love.

This choice in name shows that her father, as Syrinx, is a dreamer. He used to love fairytales and legends as much as she does. We will go back to this idea in a bit.

Then I looked the word Syrinx up:

1\. a tube or pipe,

2\. a tube-shaped cavity in the brain or spinal cord,

3\. the vocal organ of a bird,

4\. a primitive wind instrument consisting of several parallel pipes bound together.

I am totally going with the wind instrument. It's poetic, the image has something pagan to it, it suits Mab's element.

It also fits Syrinx' role in the story being Mab's instrument. The wind instrument in question is in fact the pan flute.

Let's pretend for a moment I didn't make the name up for the pretty sound of it.

There is a Syrinx in classical mythology. She is the origin of the instrument's name.

Syrinx was a tree nymph, a friend of Artemis. The god Pan saw her, he pursued her. She fled, prayed for a way out and turned into the reed. Pan cut it, strapped the stems and made this=Syrinx into his signature instrument.

Supposedly my Syrinx' father heard this tale once, the Roman culture being present in his country at the time. The name stayed with him. He named his daughter Syrinx.

I won't give anything away on the Lady of the Lake now. You will hear plenty about her and her motivation later on.

I was also asked about Frik and I completely agree. Mab should have kicked him out of the Land of Magic long time ago. I will post here why she hasn't:

In the previous scene Mab kept Frik on a long leash due to a certain laziness on her part. She is used to having him around, has been for centuries. This blinds her. She is more desperate in holding onto little specks of what glory and magic she used to have than she believes herself to be. She trusts that she and Syrinx will not be influenced by his constant criticisms. The newly arrived father is just not important enough to take into account there. He can talk with Frik all he likes, for his opinion does not matter.

Queen Mab knows Frik is a traitor. Her plan is to keep him occupied until the end of time with copying the stories about her. Hubris on her part. She can't keep an eye on him all the time, especially not while she is still weak. She reasons it would be more harmful to set him free. After all, as far as she knows, leaving him behind without powers the previous time led to him informing Merlin of the way to defeat her. She will not make that mistake again.

I get bonus points for mentioning squirrels. ;)

Let's get started on the chapter now.

The Father and the Fairy

He saw the creature from the back standing very straight in the soft glow of its cavern. For a moment his mind went to hidden stolen treasure, dragons. She was small for a dragon, this being of shadow. She must hold it all here, every treasure legend had ever spoken of. The cloak of raven hair swayed softly. She was a woman. She was undeniably female yet calling her a woman was not fitting. A fairy. Even less so. Fairies, he knew them to be humansized, regal and to be feared from his childhood tales, but they were light in spirit and soft in appearance. Wings would not suit her. Yet it did her credit that she was such a marvel to behold without something as ostentatious as wings. The word witch would do. It covered her darkness, her magic, but no, not her grandeur or her beauty.

It was too commonplace. A less familiar word was in order. He heard the room breathe, not her. The room he realized was an extension of her being. Her being being magic itself? This room was the heart of her magic within this stronghold of a land that she had created for herself and her kind. Or had magic there first and created her? He was distracted from his thoughts. Her very essence coiled around her in this enclosed shell. He could imagine her in more glorious days basking on these radiant crystals as humans in the sun. She wallowed in her magic. Stashing it up like a squirrel. As Frik used to call her that to her face. Sometimes he now cowardly called her a rodent.

She looked comfortable when she closed herself off like this. It was the most open pose he had ever seen her in, yet somehow wild and composed too.

Her privacy was disturbed by his figure, peering into the room. He did not have to see her shoulders tense, to know he was intruding. They did not, the goddess was always tense. She had known him to be there the very moment he entered the corridor-tunnel leading here. By the time he caught sight of her her patience had run out and she was sick of his-nearly-presence. The nerve of her human guest. She would not speak of it. As disrespectful as "grandfather gnome", sneaking behind her every step as if she would not notice.

Indeed much like Frik he had taken up household chores to keep himself busy. She had watched him take the library for his territory, as his daughter had. He had been categorizing the books and scrolls mere moments ago.

With his daughter gone Ealdor had recognized the freedom he held at present to wander around without fear of consequence. He had not taken a direct route from the library to the crystal room. Rather a tunnel one, picking up discarded crystals as he went. He had noted that Mab left those lying around in every room and passageway. In many places they grew out of the rockside walls.

In the days past he had not acknowledged the few fairies fluttering around him, or not yet. He did not attach much credibility to fairies. He had none around him just now. They had been oddly quiet since Syrinx left and he just as oddly did not notice their absence. Queen Mab noticed. She felt their absence as a void in herself.

It was nice to see someone make himself useful here, she had credited him aloud. He thought it peculiar then that she would stroll about her library the moment the battle for her existence was being fought, when she must have magical means to watch every development. His daughter had told him she would not be likely to leave her crystal room for as long as her life was at stake. She could stay there for days. He had seen men crumble under less pressure than she was under this moment.

Not much later she had retreated to the safety of her crystal room and hid herself there from the fight, like a frightened animal.

In comparison to Frik's recent, several centuries, of complaints and blatant disregard to her rules, the presence of a human Christian in her withering core of her power should not make much of a difference in damage. Saving him had been a gift to the girl. She could not afford many gifts. She had already given her ward so much, she had to be careful. Syrinx' most recent request for a sword had only taken a small effort from the goddess. She was used to forging weaponry from and with magic. She had decided long time ago that battle was to be her second nature. A vital venture that was lately not proving to be very successful. She would not step away from it. Surely practical gifts were preferable to giving what tenderness she had given to humans before and lost in return.

"She loves you." He did not attempt to sound casual about it. Any attempt to a casual conversation should go wrong with this creature. Magical beings were many things but not, that he had heard of, enthusiasts of small talk. He suspected suggesting they should participate in such trivial matters would insult them. A direct approach, keeping his speech simple. She would prefer that, as in his experience true monarchs usually do. This was not a delicate situation, unless they made it so. Since neither of them were delicate persons he doubted they would.

If ever he had known this world of literal make- believe to be real, he would have remembered more than the dashing chivalry and clashing of weapons from the stories he had admired so long ago. A love he had shared with his wife Isolt, named for Isolt the fair of course.

Syrinx' very name had been a romantic fancy between the two of them. He still cared for the whimsical illuminations and those creatures that speak to the imagination. The heroes… he had always preferred Arthurian tales to fairy drivel. It featured more noble, refined, gentler magic. It is what he had tried to raise Syrinx on, overly successful. The chivalry, the basic ethics, loyalty above all and then the ultimate poetic mistress to serve turned out to be this uncouth shadowy enchantress.

The queen would have known of his youthful heart, having felt his fantasies and having lived off them.

"She loves me in many ways." Her voice did not sound odd in this place. It was in harmony with the soft buzz of the crystals. A tune like someone humming at a funeral, not at all like bees. He wondered if the goddess ever went outside to take some air, to talk, to meet someone, to love, to see real bees, real squirrels, real everything-that-did-not-seem-possible-in-this-world. "The innocent adoration of a child…" Her ringed finger trailed over the line-up of crystals beside her. She carefully and almost indifferently selected her next victim. "The love for a goddess, a beauty ideal. Yes, dear Ealdor, I have seen all kinds of love in her eyes. Ones she is not consciously aware of."

"Is the scrawny fellow around?"

"Why?" It was not a question. It was an order not to dispute her will and therefore not to question Frik's possible presence. He, as everyone, was to live by her rules.

She had given up on pretense this day. She regarded everyone and everything in her realm with the same cold indifference. She didn't see why he then, the outsider, should care about eavesdroppers.

"Because this will not be a pleasant conversation. You may not want any witnesses. I want to know what you have planned for my daughter." He did not sound demanding, hostility would only make the gap wider between them.

He could feel her smile.

"She will be my voice, body and will in your world…"

His directness agreed with her. He did not care how he spoke to her. This was a consequence of standing before someone who was not real. They were never, not ever, going to be on the same side. It did not matter what was said. It would not change either of their minds. It made talking more difficult, since every word was futile and doomed they had to be forced from the mouth and were to reach stone ears. It also reduced what they both said to its essence. His words were made more straightforward and undoubtedly more dangerous to his person. When things came down to it, and they very much did, only she held power here in their dispute. Perhaps that was the true reason for his laxness now. Here he was a dead man. What he had left to lose had rode off on a magical horse always from this hellish place.

He waited for this cruel mistress to continue, politely. However he would not wait for words that would not come. Her extensive silence was an ample answer. Rulers were like that, this dark matriarch included. No explanation needed when they deemed it so. For the first time he dared suspect he would gain some insight into her after all.

"How old are you?"

He did wait for a reply now. Another reply from her would be an implied invitation to converse more. Would she risk it?

"Older than you can imagine."

She sensed him cross the threshold to her innersanctum. She heard him approach her person in that raucously loud way humans do when they think they are quiet and discreet. They cannot help it.

"I have lost sight of what I can imagine."

He turned around her, drew half a circle, craned his neck to connect with her face, her back had not shown much expression and he wanted to give her a chance that he would not normally give one with as cold a voice as hers. He watched her without blinking as if he was observing a wild animal. And that was what he was doing. An animal with the power, passion and carelessness of a natural disaster locked inside of her, to be opened at her will. Pandora's box, to give it a Christian name. He did not know the box had been emptied, the disasters had been let loose on the world and yet left it unchanged. Her magic force had died, even her hope was dwindling rapidly. He looked on the ferocious glow left of what she had been. She cast her glittering eyes up to meet him.

"You are beautiful, do not hurt her."

It was such a human thing to say. Yet his plea surprised him.

Her expression did not shift to any emotion. The beast turned out to be just a statue. He did not feel the relief that should follow that revelation. Every being she knew, herself included, would plead for Syrinx' wellbeing. No one was concerned about Queen Mab's fate and the Old Ways, only about what havoc she would wreak on her handmaiden. Admittedly if such a tiny spirit could weigh out the vastness of a religion so easily in these people's twisted perspectives, perhaps the girl should have been the goddess. And not Mab. Someone fresh and innocent, likeable. She would have been more successful at it. It, surviving, living. Being adored. But they needn't worry their mortal minds. Mab could not hurt her anymore. I am dying.

She forbade the words from rising to her lips, raising into the air and her face did not betray a thought. The crystal in her hand, it should have been a strong one, it was useless. She could peer into them, infinitely, and see nothing more than its glasslike texture. She could look into every single one and she would because her own stubbornness forced her to do just that. She would never give up. What would she do when she had seen them all, when the room was truly proven dead? This seemed to be the problem of someone else. A completely different time and place, far away, for as long as she could find another crystal however tiny that might hold magic. Without crystals, she would not be herself. A forgotten goddess in crumbles and dust. Her realm would be no more. What will become of the girl she asked herself. Herself shrugged. Uninterested.

"I have ruined your daughter. You are right about that. I have spoiled her for the human world. She could never live without magic now."

"She cares more about you than she does about me."

"Don't blame her, Ealdor," A mockery, this calling of his name. "she never had a mother. "

It took a while, a grinding hard moment of silence for the Duke to see that her goddessness was waiting for him to answer. Patiently as well for her conduct. Her statement had been a question.

She watched herself. The crystal she kept in her hand, it looked desolate there. It did not fit, nor did she, anymore. Not in this room, this world or any other, except back into the misty realms preserved for those who are too weary. Those who are ghosts. Her realm could become such a realm, if she had the strength to keep it.

The crystal reflected the hollow shape of her. She was being drained, not the crystal, by the effort of looking into Camelot. The crystal tragically had no energy to give, but neither did she. It did not show her anything. Her guest of course assumed it did show something to her. Just as he assumed she would tell if his daughter was in danger. He wanted answers, he wanted to know how the battle was fought. That made two of them. Perhaps she kept holding the crystal, she rationalized, because she wanted to give the impression that her magic did work. Or she had simply forgotten to discard it. Her detached look, her detached everything, she would not at all make for a capable mother. Yet it was unmistakable that his daughter was born perfect for her. She had grown into the girl who needed exactly this unlikely person to take her by the hand and guide her in life.

"That is true, she grew up without a mother. Her mother was lost to us when Syrinx was... too young to remember. She never needed a motherly figure in her life after that. She chased away any nurses I enlisted with her whimsical silences. She meant no harm. She just did not bond with them, showed no interest in them. She won't remember the nurses. I left her in the care of the priest and guards while I was away, people who can be silent, trustworthy, caring, better guardians in those ways, but not in the tender and soft ways of a mother. It appeared to be what she wanted. Her childhood must have been very lonely. She must have… when she found that book, that image of you, she must have made up a mother." Her mocking gaze meant to tell him he was wrong. They were people of different opinions, it did not touch him. " She looks up to you. She is projecting on you…"

"She is not."

"She looks to you as… she looks at you as a mother. She trusts you to take care of her. If she could but read what was in those pages, the bloodshed and horror you evoked and the heroes you sacrificed."

"She can read. I taught her."

"Yes, I heard her read at court and the priest must have taught her some letters once. That is not what I meant, I mean that you have blinded her. She reads the book and does not see the horrors in it. She cannot sanction such things, just for your sake. That is not what my daughter is like.

If I have any say in it…"

"You don't.

It is perfectly possible your daughter lost a mother and did not need another after that. You have known her for so long. You should understand her but I see you are a stranger to her. And as you see, I am no mother figure. You would not wish to me to be anyone's mother. Your daughter does not look upon me as her mother. I would know if she did, you wouldn't. Mortals, you are always left guessing what people think of you like little blind mice you scatter around, squeaking and fearing each other. I sense how every single person perceives me. I feel such things. It makes me a goddess. I would not be here if she thought me anyone else than who I am. She knows me perfectly well. Her faith in me returned me to this world. Not hers alone. It was as you say the final drop, you do say that? It was her who made the difference because she sees me for who I truly am. I appeared to her before all others. She does not desire a mother in her life. I am certain she would have told you if she did. Although," Venom glanced in her dark eyes. "she could do with more of a father. You have kept her lonely. When she could not get your company she put her Everything in me. It is what you do, humans seek refuge in faith. What is to say she would not have done the same with you around. It wasn't God she picked and it wasn't you." There had been no inflection to her voice, no power to speak of nor a sign of the hubrical pride that so clearly lay at the base of what she said.

It was pure, stonehard reasoning. The surprise lay in the fact that after her intendedly hurtful speech he was still there.

There were words for what she had said. Grave personal insults, heresy, blasphemy. There were punishment for what she said as well. Here, in this inbetween world, such things lost meaning. She was more than her words, less than them, different altogether. Religion for once had nothing to do with it. It was a dispute over parenting, nothing more. She had said what she thought, what she knew to be possibly false about him in a final moment to share her opinion and be frank about something, that wasn't magic, that she actually cared for. How ironical and unfortunate for her, Frik might say, that she wanted him to have taken better care of Syrinx when she had and was about to fail worse than him. Her queen was going to leave her. While Syrinx should become one of the gods. The world has never been just. It rarely makes the right things possible.

She softly let go of the crystal. Apathetically she had lowered her hand and her gaze with it to his face, a few inches higher than her own. Still the movement looked like lowering. Unless she herself drew attention to it, as she did now, few ever noticed when confronted with Mab that to human standards she was relatively small. It was deceptive to judge her or any being on size.

"You did not come here for me to promise that I will be the mother she never had. You want her to be free of me. You want me to promise you that. You also think of your men, those you care about at court, trapped in my war. You have every right to be concerned. Many will die because of me. And your daughter," She paused. "you imagine me pleased with myself for what I did to her. I pushed her into Camelot with a cry of victory. She served a purpose. I was fortunate with my servant's lineage and decided to make use of it. That is also why I keep you here. You are an influential pawn to have." A moment passed, she decided to grace him with some insight into his daughter's psyche.

"You have observed that only a masochist like Frik would enjoy being in my service."

"Dear Lord, no."

"Hush." Mab was not distracted nor hurt by the word he had uttered. "Syrinx isn't that, but I made use of her. A petty toy in fae hands. I toyed with her." A tremble in her eyes, her voice, too much repetition in her speech, her own words were too human for her to bear.

"Before I met her, under any circumstances marriage would have broken her. I respected her feelings when I could. I did nothing to harm or discourage her own wishes. She wasn't fit for your world anyway. I have taken good care of her."

"I couldn't have sent her to a convent."

"No." Considering the Duke's long lost plans for his daughter she began to worry about her own plan of marrying the girl off which would have gone just as dreadfully wrong.

A sly smile crept upon her face as if she has scored a victory. "You were married off at an early age?"

"Yes." She had heard it in the lofty words for his dead wife that he had kept from her, the self-restraint had been apparent, but his love had resounded through the mere statement of her having existed. His love for her and their daughter had been obvious in his own dedication to having his daughter wedded with a dear friend of his. Only the best would do.

She congratulated herself on understanding a smidge of human behaviour.

"That is what we do, we marry the pretty noblesse off, and the not so pretty too. The boys and girls, regardless of who they are and want to be. It baffles me that your girl should prove so troublesome at this. Kind and obedient as she is."

"Yes." He sounded rueful.

"Your marriage, that was a happy one no doubt."

"Yes." Keeping his emotions in check now.

"It's what humans do, they love when they have to. They adapt, I don't, not willingly. Just like her, she won't adapt either. She wouldn't before and she certainly won't now. I have ruined her," she said again with a snarky smile. "for what either of us would have her be. I make humans hunger for what they can't have. Syrinx for the wonders of magic. I made others hunger for her, love her, sweetly-not too deeply or they would frighten her off. They succeeded in doing that anyway." "The princes?" "And your friend. I wasn't taking chances. They were so eager to love, as humans are. It consumes them." Her cold eyes filled up with more darkness. "I had almost forgotten how they can do that." She had said "them" and they", not you. In her mind, she was talking not to Ealdor, a human. She was either talking to Frik, or to Ealdor-possibly-Frik's-runner-up.

"Why do they do that to themselves? Something so self-destructive." Her voice was a teasing hiss at this point. "It is something I admire in them and have always enjoyed witnessing."

"You despise us."

"No, I don't despise you. You are what you are. You too easily despise yourselves. With so little reason to. I used what magic influence I had in Camelot to unhinge three men and unleash a war."

Did she despise herself? No, apparently not.

"Is that very difficult?"

Her face did show some sadness. "I had done it before." She sounded softer now, looked softer. War for survival was not new to her.

"Not to my daughter?"

"No." Almost a frown now. She would not force love on Syrinx, she said. Fae did not lie. He knew that. Fae did not usually speak as straightforward as she did. A swan song then. A crow's song, cutting through her previous fancy of not speaking at all, the silent swan. Did she know this was farewell? "She needed a clear mind for this." Mab doubted it had been clear, doubted any mind human or otherwise ever was. There was always dust, always magic clouding it. "I promised your daughter things, your safety, a sword, I hold true to my promises, shall I promise you something? To ease your warring mind. Things I alone can control. I can't promise you that she shall come to no harm in the future. She will live. However I promise you whoever wins of the high lords or your damned friend, she will marry him and she will be queen. She is that dedicated to me. She will go to him, with or without my command." Pride, that was easy to recognize in her.

It must be easy, he thought, to make others love her when you love her yourself. The dangers of holding a fairy queen's love were generally well-known, if not specifically named. No good could come of this for his daughter.

"And you will leave her alone, let her be herself, a Christian. Release her from your hold. After this war when her role in your plan is fulfilled. You and your magic will not go near her again.

"I will never leave her. She will not be a true Christian. She was free to believe and she chose to believe in me."

She would not have left Syrinx in a marriage she did not want, alone in Camelot to her dying day. She would visit the queen she put on the throne regularly. She would closely watch the vessel for her new power over the land. The unborn heir to the kingdom would be born. She would watch him too, her true champion.

It was a promise she had made, so often in thought and implied and never, it occurred to her, told to Syrinx. That is the kind of thing humans would like her to say. Intentions, but her plans were hers alone. In the puzzle of human sadness, suddenly Syrinx' fit. In her human thinking the girl would marry and therefore lose Queen Mab. Marriage to this girl meant being dedicated, condemned to one person for all eternity. A forced disloyalty to Mab by Mab. In this life, and the one after that. She would have done all she could for Mab and as a result Mab would leave her.

"Is marriage what you want of her?"

"Wanted. I was convinced she would, for my sake. I was mistaken. I could not change your daughter." She had been looking at her purpose and not enough at the girl who was the very foundation on which she built her plan. An unfortunate oversight. "I have wronged her. With or without my influence she couldn't have become anyone else than who she is now. "

"When the battle ends, I will go back to the ruins you leave of Camelot."

"Good, it should be over soon. Send your daughter to me. I have something urgent to tell her."

She slipped back into her gloomy soullessness. He did not walk away, he had more to ask of her.

"I promised my daughter something as well."

"Did you now."

"There is something she must know as well, this is why I came."

"What then?" Her impatience resurfaced. It was an easy question, easier than the matters they had been discussing. But difficult to ask because of Mab's possible intent to keep it hidden. It did not involve speculation about the future. It concerned her personal past. Syrinx had had no knowledge as to what the answer might be and what emotion was linked to it in the queen's mind.

"Merlin."

"The wizard."

"You know another?"

"No, I know the one and all his faces."

"She wants to know how you know him."

"He is my son.

Are you disappointed, outraged, to learn that I am a mother after all?"

"Do you have more sons?" She shook her head.

"Do you?"

"Syrinx had a sister. She never told you that?" Mab looked away at this point. She had not been ashamed admitting to Merlin's tie to her, but she was feeling guilt over not remembering what Syrinx might have said on the topic of her sibling.

"What happened to her sister?" She did not ask, she demanded.

"She could have told you that. You could have asked her any question all the time she was with you. Several years as I understand it."

"Yes." The woman hissed now. "And she could have asked me hers. But why would I? I only want to know what is of value to me. I told you, this was her connection to court. Now I am forced to make new plans if I even have time for that."

That awful aggressive tone again. The man was strong to have stood through the furnace of all she said. "There is nothing you can still want from her."

Yet the demon still wanted his daughter. "My interests have changed. I have to talk to her." Now she cared. It was completely selfish.

It wasn't even to survive, she knew there was nothing left of her outside of this room. She would die knowing nothing about the girl who had brought her back into this world.

"I never asked too much of her, nothing I did thought she could not handle, she is very loyal. I have not hurt her." "You are wrong. You have hurt her."

"Please" a serpent's way of saying the word, but still, it had been spoken by her. "leave and tell Syrinx to come here."

She had no plan. She was at war, she hadn't been thinking about more than 5 years ahead and yet when she tried to she found a finished picture in her mind. When faith in her had been restored, the new king and queen, the queen was not called Syrinx in her mind she was called queen, had left ruling to their son. Then Queen Mab would have come and carried the queen away to live out her remaining days in the Land of Magic. If she wanted to, which she would. Where Mab could make her appear young again, if she wished it. Not for real as Merlin had achieved with his Nimue. She could not do that. She had seen him do this in her crystals after her return. She was impressed and frustrated at the unknown skill. The illusion she could make would be real enough to them.

The king, whoever he may be of the candidates, could have met an untimely end, if necessary, hastening his queen's journey back home to Faerie. Mab had not dared think it through. Correctly so, as it was now proven their efforts had been in vain. These things in her mind weren't plans. They were mere fantasies and she could not rely on her own fantasies to save her.

Though the moment had passed the Duke now asked.

"What happened to your son?"

"He left. Bring your daughter to me." It wasn't a command this time. It was despair?

Her evasive look indicated just that.

Mab thought she remembered the girl had said something about a sister. She had been too busy thinking up plans with the girl, looking at her. Listening had not come into it much.

"I had a sister once", Syrinx had told her. "terribly bossy, I…" Words, words, something she had said "at her every whim, I wish I had gotten to know her better." The sentence most likely sprang from Mab's imagination, expressing her own wish toward her servant girl.

Let this wish be mended. Somewhere in the future. Syrinx continued. "She died when I was…" she had said a pretty number "seven." It had been seven, Mab wanted it to be seven.

"No more." Mab had said, waving her hand over Syrinx' head.

She waved her father away now as well. She turned away from him. Her dress swirled over the pale crystals.

"My daughter wants the gnome gone when she returns. He's good company but he will bring you down if you let him. She believes you are letting him. He sides with another. He will betray you, if he hasn't already."

"Yes," she hardly sounded frustrated. "he has done so before."

The Duke left for his own quarters in this forsaken land to ready for departure. She will let him go. She is weak. She must know as well as him that it is safest for him to leave. Thus she continued to live up to her promise to keep him safe.

Perhaps the caves would do him the curtesy of crumbling upon him.

"Returns?"

Frik had watched her scream, covering up his ear. She could guess where the girl had gone. To stop the war she had caused. She had gone to battle for her.

Frik had indeed stayed in Queen Mab's innersanctum with her uncaring permission. His feet shuffled through crystal powder. A floor covered in shatters. All crushed. Not a crystal left. He had let her finish that important task before coming out of his hiding place. He beheld the full scope of the debris, he was in good spirits.

Witnessing her ultimate moment of despair was the least he could do. He let her have all the time she needed to fully experience the feeling. She didn't even seem angry with the girl for leaving. She was uninvolved . She understood why she had been abandoned.

The room had turned deadly quiet. All failing crystals had given up pretense. Frik had never known this room without the soft hum of magic. A joyous event, the end of servitude to a so called higher power.

Frik the old blight, the old nail to her non-existential coffin.

"You heard him, Frik?"

"Every word. She is gone.

You lost her."

"I can't cease the war."

"I know."

"She can perish there." Her main source of faith.

"Most likely to."

"What a sad face you have there, Mab, I wasn't aware you could do that..) It looks like not-understanding. That is a hostile stare now."

She lashed out at him, lightning did not follow her blow.

"There are many things you could have told her father just now to have him tell her. It wouldn't have been the same as telling her yourself, of course. At least you wouldn't have left in silence. As you are going to do now. Ah humans know goodbyes are hard. I am sure her father understands. It's good that you finally got to learn this too. Who is even to say he would convey your message to her. Personally I like delivering messages, but humans… they have a mind of their own.

"He is an honourable man."

Frik shrugged. "To his world's standards."

"A Christian can't save you."

Mab flicked her fingers dismissively at him Hush.

"You must tell her of my fate." The decline and end of magic.

"Perhaps, perhaps not."

There was no one left. No subjects, no alliances.

"You can't stay here. This place is falling apart as fast as you are."

Mab did not listen to him, it was beneath her. He was the traitor as always. His old skin most comfortable to wear.

"You are scarcely alive." He smiled.

It weren't merely his words that offended. He ridiculed her purely by being here.

Her greygreen eyes skimmer her decayed innersanctum.

With every dead crystal Mab had held she had longed to feel her mirthful smile when the crystal returned her some magic. How Frik had enjoyed seeing how that didn't work, over and over again. What she would give to experience that glow one more time before she has to leave her frail world. She couldn't stay behind and die with her crumbling realm. However much she wanted to stay, she must try everything she can to keep existing. The magic of this place was gone. She must move on… Her best chance of survival was to remain in the Heart of Magic. If there is but a morsel of magic in the world, it would come here. What magic is left, is solely keeping her alive and it is failing in that task. When her magic is going, gone, …

"There is magic elsewhere."


End file.
